DENIS     DENT 


"  NAN 
«'»l>liriuM,  ;. •*<:;,  /,,;  Frank  [.rxlir  I>ul,lixl,i,,u  //..»«•, 


DENIS   DENT 


BY    ERNEST    W.    HORNUNG 

Author  of  "The  Amateur  Cracksman" 
i,"  *<Ne  Here,"  etc. 


With  a   Frontispiece  by 
HARRISON    FISHER 


NEW    TORK    .     FREDERICK    A. 
STOKES    COMPANY         PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  7907, 
BY  FRANK  LESLIE  PUBLISHING  HOUSE 

Copyright,  ipoj, 
BY  E.  W.  HORNUNG 


All  Rights  Reserved 


This  edition  published  in  January,  1904. 


To 
P.  M.  MARTINEAU,  Es<^   J.  P. 


DEAR  MR.  MARTINEAU, 

The  little  picture  of  the  past  attempted 
in  this  tale  owes  more  than  one  touch  to  your 
kindness.  I  only  wish  that  the  whole  were 
nearer  the  mark  aimed  at,  and  so  worthier 
to  bear  your  name  upon  this  page. 
Tours  very  sincerely, 

E.  W.  HORNUNG. 

Reform  Glut, 
October  2Jth, 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  THE  SECOND  OFFICER                                i 

II.  SAUVE  Qui  PEUT                                       10 

III.  THE  CASTAWAYS     .         .         .         .18 

IV.  LOST  AND  FOUND       ....          30 

V.  A  TOUCH  OF  FEVER          ...       37 

VI.  NEW  CONDITIONS     ....       48 

VII.  DENIS  AND  NAN       ....       57 

VIII.  COLD  WATER           ....       70 

IX.  THE  CANVAS  CITY  ....       79 

X.  THIEVES  IN  THE  NIGHT    ...       90 

XI.  STRANGE  BEDFELLOWS      .         .         .102 

XII.  EL  DORADO     .         .         .         .              114 

XIII.  THE  ENEMY'S  CAMP        .         .         .122 

XIV.  THE  FIRST  CLAIM  .         .         .         -133 
XV.  A  Pious  FRAUD        .         .         .         .     146 

XVI.  A  WINDFALL           ....     158 

XVII.  HATE  AND  MONEY  .         .         .         .168 

XVIII.  ROTTEN  GULLY        .         .         .         .178 

XIX.     NEW  BLOOD 187 

XX.  THE  JEWELER'S  SHOP       .         .         .     196 

vii 


Vlll 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

XXI.  THE  COURIER  OF  DEATH 

XXII.  ATRA  CURA 

XXIII.  BROKEN  OFF 

XXIV.  DEATH'S  DOOR     . 
XXV.  BEAT  OF  DRUM     . 

XXVI.  HOMEWARD  BOUND 

XXVII.  THE  GREAT  GULF 

XXVIII.  NEWS  OF  BATTLE 

XXIX.  GUY  FAWKES  DAY 

XXX.  THE  SANDBAG  BATTERY 

XXXI.  TIME'S  WHIRLIGIG 


PAGE 
211 

22O 
231 


251 
265 
277 

289 
299 
310 
319 


DENIS    DENT 


CHAPTER  I 
THE  SECOND  OFFICER 

"  T       AND  ahead !  " 

The  North  Foreland  had  been  made  ad- 

JL— «  visedly  snug  for  the  night.  In  the  middle 
watch  she  was  under  her  three  lower  topsails  and 
fore  topmast  staysail  only.  Not  that  it  blew  very 
hard,  but  the  night  was  dark  and  hazy,  with  a  heavy 
swell.  And  it  was  the  last  night  of  the  voyage. 

At  eight  bells  there  had  been  a  cast  of  the  deep- 
sea  lead,  with  the  significant  result  that  the  skipper 
had  been  the  first  to  turn  in  ;  gradually  the  excited 
passengers  had  followed  his  example,  instead  of 
staying  on  deck  to  see  the  Otway  light.  The  sec- 
ond mate  had  said  there  would  be  no  Otway  that 
night,  and  what  the  second  said  was  good  enough 
for  most.  The  saloon  skylight  had  become  a  clean- 
edged  glimmer  in  the  middle  of  the  poop,  the  bin- 
nacle a  fallen  moon ;  not  a  port-hole  twinkled  on 

i 


2  DENIS    DENT 

the  rushing  ink ;  and  the  surviving  topsails,  with- 
out visible  stitch  or  stick  aloft  or  alow,  hovered 
over  the  ship  like  gigantic  bats. 

Four  persons  remained  upon  the  poop :  the 
middy  of  the  watch,  tantalized  by  muffled  guffaws 
from  the  midshipmen's  berth  in  the  after-house  • 
the  man  at  the  wheel,  in  eclipse  above  the  belt,  with 
the  binnacle  light  upon  one  weather-beaten  hand  ; 
and  on  the  weather  side,  the  second  mate  in  reluc- 
tant conversation  with  a  big  cigar  that  glowed  at 
intervals  into  a  bearded  and  spectacled  face,  the 
smooth  brown  one  of  the  young  officer  sharing  the 
momentary  illumination. 

"  It 's  all  very  well,"  said  the  senior  man,  in  low 
persistent  tones,  "  but  if  we  do  n't  have  it  out  now, 
when  are  we  to  ?  You  know  what  it  will  be  like 
to-morrow :  we  shall  land  first  thing,  and  you  '11  be 
the  busiest  man  on  board.  As  for  the  rules  of  the 
ship,  if  an  owner  can't  use  his  discretion  he  might 
as  well  travel  by  some  other  line." 

The  young  fellow  was  smiling  pleasantly  as  the 
other  puffed  again. 

"Very  good,  Mr.  Merridew!  I  don't  object  if 
the  captain  does  n't ;  and  of  course  I  must  tell  you 
anything  you  want  to  know." 

"  Anything  !  My  good  young  man,  if  I  am  to 
consider  this  matter  for  a  moment  (which  I  do  n't 
promise)  I  must  at  least  know  everything  that  you 
can  tell  me  about  yourself  first ;  for  what,"  con- 
tinued Mr.  Merridew,  taking  the  cigar  from  his 


THE    SECOND    OFFICER       3 

teeth,  "  what  do  you  suppose  I  know  about  you  at 
this  moment  ?  Absolutely  nothing  except  that  you 
seem  to  be  a  first-class  sailor,  as  they  tell  me  you 
are,  and  a  very  nice  fellow,  as  I  have  found  you 
for  myself — aboardship;  but  of  your  shore-going 
record,  of  your  position  in  life  at  home,  and  of 
your  people  and  their  position,  to  speak  quite 
plainly,  I  know  nothing  at  all." 

Mr.  Merridew  delivered  himself  with  a  certain 
dispassionate  unction,  as  one  who  could  do  the 
judicial  to  a  turn,  and  enjoy  it.  Yet  his  tone  was 
kindly,  and  the  periods  free  from  wilful  offense. 

"  You  may  make  your  mind  easy  about  my  peo- 
ple. I  have  none,"  said  the  sailor,  bitterly.  A 
fatherly  hand  found  his  shoulder  on  the  word. 

"  My  dear  fellow !     I  am  so  sorry." 

"  You  mean  relieved." 

"  I  mean  what  I  say,"  said  Mr.  Merridew,  remov- 
ing his  hand. 

It  was  the  young  man's  turn  to  apologize,  which 
he  did  with  much  frankness  and  more  feeling. 

"  The  truth  is,  sir,  my  parents  have  been  dead 
for  years  ;  and  yet  they  are  nearly  everything  to 
me  still — they  were  all  the  world  until  this  voyage ! 
My  mother  was  Irish  ;  her  name  would  not  be  new 
to  you,  but  it  will  keep.  It  may  not  be  necessary 
for  you  to  know  it,  or  anything  more  about  me, 
and  in  any  case  it  can't  alter  me.  But  I  am  half- 
Irish  through  my  mother — though  you  wouldn't 
think  it." 


4  DENIS    DENT 

"  I  would  think  it,"  remarked  Mr.  Merridew, 
blowing  at  his  cigar  as  at  a  forge,  until  the  red  light 
found  him  looking  wise  through  his  spectacles,  but 
the  officer  with  one  eye  on  his  sails  and  no  percep- 
tible emotion  in  the  other. 

"  My  first  name,"  he  went  on,  "  is  as  Irish  as  you 
like  ;  it 's  Denis  ;  and  you  may  say  that  I  've  been 
living  up  to  it  for  once ! " 

"  Denis  !  "  repeated  Mr.  Merridew,  with  interest. 
"  Well,  I  know  that  name,  anyhow ;  one  of  our 
partners — Captain  Devenish's  father — he's  Denis 
Devenish,  you  know." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Denis  Dent,  and  there  was  a 
strange  light  in  his  spare  eye.  "  Well,  so  much  for 
my  mother ;  my  father  was  a  Yorkshire  dalesman, 
as  his  father  and  his  father's  father  were  before  him. 
I  am  the  first  of  them  to  leave  the  land." 

"  May  I  ask  why  ?  " 

"  It  is  n't  our  land  any  more.  My  father  gave 
up  everything  to  take  my  mother  abroad,  when  her 
life  was  despaired  of  in  England,  and  when  her  peo- 
ple— her  own  people — I  can't  trust  myself  to  speak 
of  them!" 

And  the  young  fellow  turned  abruptly  aside,  while 
Mr.  Merridew  puffed  and  peered  at  a  massive  though 
clean-cut  face,  whose  only  Irish  feature  was  a  pair 
of  bright  brown  eyes,  bold  and  resolute,  yet  quick 
to  laughter,  if  quicker  still  to  fire. 

The  south-easter  sang  through  the  unseen  rig- 
ging ;  the  ship  rushed  a  fathom  through  the  unseen 


THE    SECOND    OFFICER       5 

sea.  The  second  had  a  look  at  the  compass,  and 
came  climbing  back  to  windward  with  his  hands  in 
his  pea-jacket  pockets. 

"  And  yet,"  said  Mr.  Merridew,  flourishing  his 
cigar,  "  and  yet — you  want  to  marry  my  daugh- 
ter ! " 

"  If  she  will  have  me,  sir,"  said  the  sailor,  with  an 
uncertainty  on  that  point  in  becoming  contrast  to 
his  certainty  of  himself. 

"  But  whether  /  will  or  not." 

"  I  never  said  that,  Mr.  Merridew.  I  should  be 
very  sorry  to  take  up  such  a  position,  I  can  assure 
you,  sir." 

"  You  would  be  sorry,  but  you  would  do  it,"  re- 
torted Mr.  Merridew  with  acumen.  "  You  would 
do  as  your  father  evidently  did  before  you." 

"  I  hoped  we  had  finished  with  my  parents,  sir." 

"  But  they  left  you  nothing,  if  I  understand 
aright,"  rejoined  Merridew,  changing  his  ground 
and  his  tone  with  some  dexterity.  "  And  you 
would  marry  my  daughter  on  the  pay  of  a  junior 
officer  in  the  merchant  service." 

"  I  never  said  that  either.  I  have  my  captain's 
certificate,  sir,  as  it  is." 

The  new  tone  was  the  tone  to  take.  Mr.  Mer- 
ridew went  so  far  as  to  give  his  daughter  her  name. 

"  And  Nan,"  said  he,  "  might  have  ten  thousand 
pounds  for  her  marriage  portion.  I  do  n't  say  she 
would,  but  for  all  you  know  she  might  have  more. 
Her  husba.nd  ought  to  bring  at  least  as  much  into 


6  DENIS    DENT 

settlement,  even  as  a  self-respecting  man,  do  n't  you 
think  ?  And  yet  you  would  make  her  a  merchant 
skipper's  wife ! " 

The  young  man  winced,  as  though  for  a  flash  he 
saw  himself  wholly  in  the  wrong.  Then  his  face 
hardened — all  but  the  Irish  eyes — and  it  was  the 
face  of  a  man  who  would  justify  himself  with  his 
life's  blood.  Impulse,  initiative,  temerity,  were  in 
the  eyes,  indomitable  endurance  in  their  solid  set- 
ting. 

"  You  take  it  for  granted  that  I  will  never  be 
anything  more !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  But,  sir,  once  a 
sailor  is  n't  always  one.  I  've  got  on  well  at  sea. 
I  'd  get  on  well  on  land — anywhere — at  anything  ! 
You  may  smile.  I  feel  it  in  me.  Mr.  Merridew,  it 
may  seem  what  you  please,  but  I  'm  pretty  young 
even  for  what  I  am  now.  Surely,  surely,  you  would 
give  me  time — if  she  would  ?  " 

It  was  the  Irishman  speaking,  the  Irish  blood 
spurting  out  in  words,  and  Mr.  Merridew  distrusted 
the  bulk  of  that  race ;  but  his  cigar  glowed  again 
upon  a  mouth  and  jaw  that  came  of  harder  stock, 
and  for  the  moment  his  mind  was  illuminated  too. 

Here  was  this  Denis  Dent,  not  one  young  man, 
it  struck  him,  but  two  young  men  in  one,  each  with 
a  very  name  of  his  own.  Dents  from  the  Dales, 
Denis  from  old  Ireland !  Mr.  Merridew  smiled 
through  his  spectacles,  pleased  with  his  conceit,  not 
altogether  disposed  to  regard  it  as  such,  but  incon- 
tinently interested  in  a  personality  to  which  he  had 


THE    SECOND    OFFICER       7 

been  so  clever  as  to  supply  the  key.  The  heart  of 
the  discoverer  warmed  toward  his  own.  There  was 
an  attractiveness  in  Denis,  a  solid  worth  in  Dent. 
Denis  might  win  the  girl.  Dent  would  deserve  her. 
And  Denis  Dent  might  have  carried  her  own  father 
with  him,  had  he  been  the  only  young  man  in  the 
case,  or  even  on  the  poop  of  the  North  Foreland  as 
she  drove  through  the  haze  on  the  last  night  of  her 
voyage. 

But  as  the  pair  stood  eye  to  eye,  the  pregnant 
pause  between  them  was  interrupted  by  a  loud  and 
startling  laugh,  and  a  tall  figure  loomed  through 
the  first  gray  tinge  of  approaching  dawn.  It  was 
that  of  a  young  man  in  a  tasseled  dressing-gown, 
with  an  ornate  meerschaum  pipe  pendent  between 
the  bushy  black  whiskers  of  the  day. 

"  Well,  if  that  does  n't  take  first  prize  for  cheek ! " 
cried  he,  and  lurched  toward  them  in  his  slippers  as 
one  who  had  never  found  his  sea-legs. 

"  We  are  having  a  private  conversation,  Ralph," 
said  Mr.  Merridew  in  mild  rebuke. 

"  A  private  conversation  that  you  could  hear  on 
the  forecastle-head !  "  jeered  Ralph  Devenish,  who 
was  full  of  liquor  without  being  drunk.  "  I  suppose 
he's  so  proud  of  it  he  wants  the  whole  ship  to 
know ! " 

And  the  meerschaum  pointed  jerkily  at  Denis, 
who  stood  the  heaving  deck  as  a  circus  rider  stands 
a  horse,  his  hands  still  deep  in  his  pea-jacket 
pockets. 


8  DENIS    DENT 

"  Captain  Devenish,"  said  he,  "  it 's  against  the 
rules  to  speak  to  the  officer  of  the  watch,  but  you 
shall  speak  civilly  if  you  speak  at  all.  Otherwise  I 
advise  you  to  take  yourself  off  the  poop  before 
you  're  put  off." 

"  By  God ! "  snarled  Devenish,  "  but  you  shall 
pay  for  that !  Before  one  owner  to  another  own- 
er's son,  on  the  last  night  of  the  voyage  !  It 's  your 
last  in  the  Line,  Mr.  Officer  of  the  Watch !  And 
you  dare  to  lay  a  hand  on  me !  Come  on.  You 
dare.  I  know  your  blustering  breed,  you  damned 
Jack-in-buttons ! " 

"  And  I  know  yours — you  Devenishes  !  I  know 
you  too  well  to  soil  my  hands  on  any  one  of 
you!" 

The  concentrated  bitterness  of  this  retort  had  an 
opposite  effect  on  either  hearer ;  one  it  stupefied, 
the  other  it  flooded  with  a  sudden  light;  but 
Devenish  was  the  first  to  find  his  tongue,  and  for 
the  moment  there  was  none  more  foul  before  the 
mast.  The  deplorable  torrent  was  only  stemmed 
by  the  startling  apparition  of  a  square  little  man  in 
a  still  more  awful,  because  a  more  articulate  and 
more  righteous,  rage. 

"  I  '11  teach  you  to  break  the  rules  of  my  ship  ! 
I  '11  teach  you  to  curse  my  officers,  drunk  or  sober ! 
Out  of  my  sight,  sir,  or  I  '11  have  you  in  irons  be- 
fore you  're  a  minute  older  !  " 

"  Come,  come,  Captain  Coles,"  said  Mr.  Mer- 
ridew,  with  dignity ;  "  there  has  been  more  provo- 


THE    SECOND    OFFICER       9 

cation  than  you  imagine;  and  this,  you  must 
remember,  is  Captain  Devenish." 

"  I  do  n't  care  a  dump  if  it 's  Devenish  Merridew 
and  Company  lumped  into  one ! "  roared  the  little 
skipper.  "  You  can  have  your  way  ashore,  but  I 
mean  to  have  mine  at  sea;  and  as  for  your  iron 
coffin  of  a  ship,  I  '11  be  thankful  to  come  off  her 
alive,  let  alone  sailing  in  her  again.  No  two  com- 
passes alike,  thirty-six  hours  since  we  got  the 
sun,  the  darkest  night  of  the  voyage,  and  Australia 
anywhere !  Yet  this  is  the  night  you  choose,  you 
owners,  to  bully  and  browbeat  my  officers  of  the 
watch ! " 

But  it  was  no  longer  the  darkest  night  of  the 
voyage,  or  even  night  at  all.  The  group  stood 
visible  and  divisible  in  a  cold  gray  haze.  The 
lower  topsails  were  no  longer  detached  from  the 
ship ;  there  was  a  misty  mast  to  each ;  and  the 
ship  was  running  dry-decked  through  the  high 
smooth,  seas. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  the  haze  lifted  like 
breath  from  a  mirror  ;  and  a  subtle  new  sound  was 
just  beginning  to  insinuate  itself  upon  the  ear  when 
the  look-out  man  drowned  it  with  his  roar  from  the 
forecastle  head. 


CHAPTER  II 
SAUVE  QUI  PEUT 

LAND  was  indeed  ahead,  and  in  the  most 
appalling  shape  known  to  seafaring  man :  at 
the  last  moment,  the  haze  had  lifted  on  a 
line  of  jagged  cliffs,  already  parallel  with  the  fore- 
yard,  albeit  by  the  muffled  thud  of  the  breakers,  not 
quite  so  near  as  it  looked. 

The  North  Foreland  was  blessed  with  a  com- 
mander who  was  at  his  best  in  an  emergency.  Lit- 
tle Coles  had  turned  in  when  he  should  have  stayed 
on  deck,  and  was  no  more  prepared  for  shipwreck 
than  if  such  disasters  were  unknown  ;  but  he  rose 
to  the  occasion  like  a  lark.  His  sharp  voice  cracked 
like  a  whip  from  the  break  of  the  poop,  and  all 
hands,  piped  from  the  forecastle,  the  petty  officers' 
quarters,  and  the  midshipmen's  berth,  came  running 
as  though  the  words  drew  blood. 

The  spanker  was  set,  with  the  mizzen  and  main- 
topmast  staysail,  and  the  helm  put  down  to  bring 
her  round ;  but  there  was  no  racing  of  the  cliffs  to 
port.  She  stumbled  a  little  in  her  stride ;  the  fresh 
sails  flapped ;  but  there  was  no  getting  her  on  the 
other  tack,  though  the  upper  mizzen  topsail  was 
pressed  into  the  job. 


SAUVE    QUI    PEUT  11 

The  skipper  waited  a  minute  with  compressed 
lips  and  fiery  eye ;  then  a  crackle  of  musketry  from 
his  weatherbeaten  throat,  and  both  anchors  were 
let  go. 

The  port  anchor  had  fifty  fathoms  of  cable,  the 
starboard  anchor  sixty  fathoms  of  chain  ;  in  antici- 
pation of  their  holding,  the  sails  were  clewed  upt 
and  a  man  sent  into  the  chains  with  the  lead,  for 
she  was  drifting  inshore  every  moment.  But  the 
lead  danced  on  smooth  rock,  where  the  anchors 
trailed  as  readily  as  over  ice ;  the  captain  had  them 
both  up  again,  but  that  took  longer  than  letting 
them  go,  and  meanwhile  half  the  hands  were  aloft 
shaking  out  sail  once  more. 

Coles  was  showing  his  resource  at  every  point, 
and  by  this  time  had  his  ship  actually  head  to 
wind;  in  another  minute  she  might  have  stood 
away  upon  the  port  tack.  But  at  this  juncture 
time  was  wasted  in  an  attempt  to  sheet  home  the 
topsails,  which  failing,  the  buntlines  of  the  mainsail 
were  let  go,  the  port  main  tack  got  on  board,  and 
the  sheet  hauled  aft.  The  men  were  still  upon  the 
rope  when  the  North  Foreland  struck  and  spilt  them 
like  the  winners  in  a  tug-of-war. 

It  was  the  horrible  striking  of  an  iron  ship:  a 
terrific  crash  under  the  mizzen-chains,  and  there  she 
quivered  like  a  rat  in  a  terrier's  teeth.  And  the 
devilish  seas  that  had  run  with  her,  hunted  with 
her,  how  they  fell  on  her  now,  and  swept  and 
trampled  her  from  the  moment  she  was  down  ! 


12  DENIS    DENT 

The  scene  on  deck,  if  it  wanted  the  infinite  horror 
of  pitch  darkness,  was  only  a  degree  less  dreadful  in 
a  pearly  dawn  that  left  no  doubt  about  the  situation. 
Every  hatchway  spouted  crude  humanity,  shouting, 
shoving,  screaming,  scolding,  covering  a  chattering 
nakedness  as  it  gained  the  deck,  and  there  struck 
silent  at  a  glance.  For  nothing  was  hid,  nothing 
extenuated,  for  a  single  moment,  to  a  single  eye. 
There  was  no  learning  the  worst  by  humane  de- 
grees. It  was  patent  at  once  to  the  wildest  and  the 
calmest  gaze.  The  sanguine  soul  was  no  more  help 
to  the  stunned  community  than  the  born  pessimist ; 
there  was  no  chance  for  the  imagination  either 
way. 

They  could  see,  every  one  of  them,  the  towering 
cliffs — blind  sides  of  houses  without  an  inch  of 
pavement — the  rollers  running  up  to  them  un- 
broken, for  the  better  sport  of  leaping  sky-high  at 
the  impact.  They  could  see  her  settling,  see  her 
bumping,  see  the  top-hamper  falling  about  the  deck. 
There  was  enough  to  feel  and  to  hear.  The  eyes 
might  have  been  spared  a  little.  Some  shut  them 
more  than  once,  as  when  an  upper  spar  came  down 
like  an  arrow,  transfixing  a  sailor  with  incredible 
neatness,  and  actually  sticking  upright  through  man 
and  deck ;  but  few  escaped  the  sight  of  blood,  and 
none  the  dying  scream.  A  worse  sight  was  in 
store.  A  steward  with  the  stock  of  life-belts  from 
the  lazaretto  touched  the  captain's  arm.  And, 
checked  in  some  hoarse  tirade,  the  valiant  Coles 


SAUVE    QUI    PEUT  13 

stood  first  aghast  and  then  abject  in  the  sight  of 
passengers  and  crew — beaten  man  and  broken  reed. 

The  better  part  of  valour  was  the  only  part  he 
lacked.  Not  a  boat  in  davits ;  the  whole  fleet 
docked,  inboard,  on  skids  !  And  exactly  six  life- 
belts to  go  round  a  ship's  company  of  over  a  hun- 
dred souls ! 

The  second  mate  was  clearing  away  the  port  life- 
boat with  five  of  the  hands,  one  blaspheming,  an- 
other in  tears,  more  than  one  vowing  with  reason 
that  they  would  all  be  drowned,  and  the  young 
officer  himself  in  a  consuming  agony  of  his  own. 
At  the  break  of  the  poop,  almost  all  this  time, 
stood  a  slender  figure  in  a  pink  wrapper,  between  a 
bearded  man  in  spectacles  and  a  man  with  bushy 
whiskers  in  incongruous  silk  and  tassels.  Dent 
wondered  why  he  did  not  lend  a  hand ;  no,  on  sec- 
ond thoughts  he  knew,  and  cursed  the  fellow  in  his 
heart.  He  did  not  mean  to  leave  her  side.  He 
meant  to  have  the  rescuing  of  her.  Trust  a  Dev- 
enish  to  play  his  own  game  !  Denis  was  too  busy 
to  look  twice  at  the  trio,  but  he  seemed  to  see 
them  all  the  time,  and  the  vision  galled  him  to  in- 
sensate effort. 

"  Take  your  time,  take  your  time,"  cried  the  chief 
officer,  all  red  hook-nose  and  ginger  moustache,  an 
oilskin  bonnet  fastened  under  his  chin.  "  The  old 
man 's  done  his  part.  He  '11  go  down  in  her.  The 
rest  hangs  on  you  and  me." 

The  chief  met  the  responsibility  with  his  own 


14  DENIS    DENT 

tap  of  cold  profanity,  not  unaccompanied  by  shrewd 
cuft  and  calculated  kick,  as  he  superintended  the 
clearing  of  the  other  life-boat.  As  for  the  skipper, 
it  seemed  that  he  had  recovered  his  mettle  to  meet 
fresh  trouble  further  aft ;  they  could  hear  him  firing 
oaths  and  threatening  lead  ;  but  when  Denis  looked 
he  could  not  get  his  eyes  past  the  two  men  at  the 
break  of  the  poop,  for  at  that  moment  they  were 
lashing  one  of  the  six  life-belts  about  a  forlorn  little 
figure  in  pink. 

The  port  life-boat  was  ready  first,  and  the  third 
mate  busy  marshaling  the  women  and  children  in  a 
helpless,  eager,  hesitating,  exasperating  throng ;  but 
Miss  Merridew  was  still  detained  by  her  friends  on 
the  poop.  The  gripes  had  been  cut,  and  Denis 
himself  had  sent  the  last  chock  flying  with  a  savage 
kick.  He  and  his  crew  of  five  were  in  the  act  of 
hooking  the  tackles  to  the  thwarts.  The  chief  mate 
was  shouting  a  timely  word  of  advice. 

"  When  you  get  her  launched,  and  filled,  and 
stand  away  in  her 

But  Denis  did  not  hear  what  he  was  to  do  then, 
for  at  that  instant  a  green  sea  lifted  the  port  life- 
boat clean  over  the  side  with  all  six  men. 

Denis's  next  thought  was  that  the  water  was 
warmer  than  he  should  have  supposed,  and  his  next 
but  one  that  somebody  was  bent  on  braining  him ; 
he  was  hit  about  the  head,  not  once  but  repeatedly  ; 
but  as  soon  as  he  could  see  he  knew  the  reason,  for 
a  dim  glimmer  was  all  there  was  to  see.  The  boat 


SAUVE    QUI    PEUT  15 

was  riding  bottom  upward.  He  had  come  up 
under  her.  It  was  the  thwart  that  had  been  bela- 
bouring him.  He  caught  hold  of  it,  pulled  as  at  a 
horizontal  bar,  came  up  like  a  cork,  and  easily 
wormed  half  his  person  between  thwart  and  bilge. 

In  this  position  Denis  regained  breath,  immersed 
to  the  waist,  but  with  no  lack  of  air,  and  a  bilge- 
cork  handy  for  fresh  supplies,  until  the  real  danger 
occurred  to  him.  The  capsized  life-boat  rode  the 
rollers  like  a  cradle,  but  at  any  moment  she  might 
shatter  herself  against  the  cliffs.  It  was  hardly  the 
work  of  one  for  Denis  to  dive  from  underneath  her 
at  the  thought.  The  cliffs,  however,  were  still  far 
enough  away ;  of  the  wreck  he  could  see  nothing 
for  the  swell ;  but  it  was  now  broad  daylight. 

He  went  under  the  boat  again,  and  in  about  five 
minutes  she  righted  herself  for  no  apparent  reason. 
Denis  was  nearly  stunned  in  the  process,  nor  was 
the  advantage  otherwise  unmixed.  The  boat  had 
come  up-  full,  and  Denis  had  now  to  bale  for  his 
life. 

So  she  floated  upon  the  cliffs,  until  the  big  seas 
began  to  break,  when  she  instantly  capsized  again. 
This  time  he  succeeded  in  scaling  the  keel,  only 
to  be  dislodged  as  his  perverse  ship  righted  herself 
once  more.  But  the  tenacity  of  the  Dents  was  now 
uppermost  in  Denis,  if  indeed  he  had  any  other 
quality  left,  and  he  was  back  in  the  boat  when  she 
eventually  struck  upon  the  cliff.  The  shock  hurled 
him  overboard  for  the  last  time,  yet  was  so  much 


16  DENIS    DENT 

less  terrific  than  he  had  anticipated,  that  he  sought 
and  found  the  reason  as  he  swam  clear.  A  minute 
ago  the  boat  had  been  within  a  few  fathoms  of  the 
full  face  of  the  cliffs ;  at  the  last  instant  a  mouth 
had  opened,  and  all  she  had  done  was  to  cannon  off 
the  perpendicular  wall  of  a  strait  so  narrow  as  to  be 
practically  invisible  from  without. 

It  was  comprehensible  enough.  The  tide  was 
setting  through  this  tiny  channel.  The  derelict 
life-boat  was  not  alone ;  packages  bobbed  between 
the  towering  walls ;  a  table  came  riding  by  on  its 
top,  three  legs  still  standing,  as  Denis  trod  water. 
And  on  the  table  he  partly  floated  and  partly  swam 
into  a  bay  which  stood  to  the  channel  as  a  flagon 
to  its  neck. 

It  was  semicircular  in  shape,  surrounded  by  cliffs 
as  lofty  and  precipitous  as  those  without,  but  mer- 
cifully provided  with  a  sandy  beach  at  the  upper 
end.  The  castaway  breathed  a  hoarse  thanksgiving 
at  the  saving  sight.  His  smarting  eyes  had  risen 
involuntarily,  and  as  they  rested  on  the  heights, 
the  sun  lit  up  some  heath  and  bracken  that  over- 
hung the  edge  a  few  feet  like  a  table-cloth  :  thence 
downward  it  was  sheer  for  one  or  two  hundred  to 
the  beach  below.  At  the  base  a  couple  of  caves 
opened  romantically  upon  the  yellow  sand,  but 
there  was  no  sun  for  them  yet,  or  for  the  dancing 
waves  that  bore  Denis  and  his  table  finally  to  the  land. 

There  in  an  instant  he  was  staggering  and  stum- 
bling under  the  abnormal  weight  of  his  dripping 


SAUVE    QUI    PEUT  17 

and  exhausted  body.  A  few  yards  he  reeled,  then 
fell  prone  upon  the  warm  sand,  digging  in  his  fin- 
gers to  the  knuckles,  thinking  of  no  mortal  but 
himself,  thanking  his  God  for  preserving  him  as 
though  he  had  made  the  voyage  alone.  Indeed  the 
long  voyage  on  the  ship  was  temporarily  blotted 
out  of  mind  by  the  little  one  in  the  boat. 

And  he  a  lover !  And  his  love  as  good  as 
drowned  before  his  eyes ! — for  not  a  vestige  of  the 
ship  had  he  seen  since  the  original  mishap  to  the 
port  life-boat.  It  was  a  terrible  reflection  to  Denis 
for  the  rest  of  his  days — but  at  the  time  he  did  not 
think  of  her — did  not  even  picture  a  certain  shade 
of  pink  and  ask  himself  what  it  meant  and  must 
mean  to  him  till  his  dying  day.  He  just  lay  and 
held  on  to  the  warm  sand,  foot  and  finger,  because 
the  earth  heaved  under  him  as  the  sea  had  done  for 
thirteen  weeks,  and  his  vitality  was  very  low. 

Consciousness  might  have  left  him  altogether ;  he 
always  wanted  to  think  so,  for  then  he  could  have 
forgiven  himself;  but  he  was  never  satisfied  on  the 
point.  He  only  knew  it  was  a  faint  far  cry  that 
roused  him  in  the  end.  But  faint  as  it  was,  and  never 
so  far  away,  that  thin  high  cry  brought  the  half- 
dead  man  to  his  feet  like  a  gunshot  at  the  ear. 

A  bar  of  sunlight  slanted  through  the  narrow 
heads,  and  in  the  sun  the  blue  waves  were  tipped 
with  gold,  and  across  the  gold  and  the  blue  a  black 
spar  floated  with  some  sodden  and  discoloured  rags. 

But  Denis  was  in  no  doubt  as  to  their  shade. 


CHAPTER  III 
THE  CASTAWAYS 

DENIS  had  been  a  swimmer  all  his  life ;  how 
he  struck  out  now  every  swimmer  will 
know,  though  none  so  well  as  the  happy 
few  who  have  themselves  saved  life.  It  is  good  to 
think  that  that  noblest  of  human  instincts  had  its  secret 
place  even  now  in  this  glowing  heart ;  that  Denis 
Dent  would  have  given  himself  as  unstintedly  to  the 
rescue  of  some  unknown  person ;  yet  surely  the 
sacred  flame  alone  could  have  fired  those  spent 
members  to  the  last  pitch  of  redoubled  endurance. 
The  white  left  arm,  brown  as  a  glove  from  the  wrist 
down,  flew  over  as  white  a  shoulder  in  flashing 
curves ;  the  brown  head  dipped  in  the  blue,  to  rise 
spluttering  and  dripping  a  good  yard  further  ;  but 
the  yards  were  close  on  two  hundred  from  shore  to 
spar,  and  when  Denis  came  up  with  the  latter, 
it  was  his  love,  indeed,  but  she  was  already  sense- 
less. 

They  had  tied  her  in  a  life-belt,  and  lashed  the 
life-belt  to  a  spar ;  in  time  she  would  have  been 
cast  up  on  the  warm  sand,  dead  !  She  was  not 
dead  yet ;  she  should  not  die.  Denis  took  the  hem 
of  her  dear  drenched  garment  between  his  teeth,  and 


THE    CASTAWAYS  19 

swam  in,  if  possible,  more  strenuously  than  he  had 
swum  out,  but  with  the  breast  stroke,  and  in  twice 
the  time. 

At  last  she  lay  where  he  had  lain,  only  in  the 
sun.  Already  the  sand  was  gloriously  hot  to  bare 
knees ;  and  there  was  still  a  faint  throbbing  in  the 
inanimate  wrist,  though  the  eyelids  lay  leaden  in  a 
livid  face.  Denis  caught  up  his  scattered  clothes, 
raced  behind  a  ti-tree  thicket,  and  put  them  on  as 
hurriedly  as  he  had  plucked  them  off. 

The  thicket  grew  under  the  cliffs  between  the 
two  caves,  and  Denis  delayed  some  seconds  to  fill 
his  arms  with  branches  before  running  back  to  the 
girl. 

Her  pulse  seemed  stronger.  He  arranged  some 
of  the  branches,  but  left  the  sun  beating  on  her  feet. 
It  was  the  month  of  October,  and  early  summer  in 
Australia. 

Sundry  packages  had  already  come  ashore ;  there 
was  the  inevitable  barrel  of  salt  junk ;  there  was  a 
box  of  soap,  that  Denis  spurned,  and  another  box  so 
similar  that  he  left  it  to  the  last.  Judge  therefore 
of  his  joy  on  eventually  discovering  that  here  was 
nothing  less  than  a  case  of  Spanish  brandy  !  He 
shrieked  the  good  tidings  to  the  girl.  She  did  not 
stir.  He  had  to  run  back  to  her,  and  lift  that  leaden 
wrist  once  more,  before  he  could  bear  to  open  the 
box. 

His  sailor's  knife  was  worth  a  thousand  pounds 
to  him  in  that  hour ;  the  great  blade  made  short 


20  DENIS    DENT 

enough  work  of  the  lid,  but  the  heavy  haft  knocked 
the  neck  off  a  bottle  so  prettily  as  to  provide  a  meas- 
ure with  the  medicine.  Denis  filled  the  inverted  neck 
as  he  ran,  and  was  soon  spilling  as  much  over  the 
marble  face  as  he  managed  to  get  between  the 
bloodless  lips.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  fear  came 
to  him :  he  retreated  a  little  on  his  knees.  The 
stuff  had  caught  her  breath,  her  eyelids  twitched, 
and  as  she  coughed  the  marble  flushed  to  flesh. 
She  did  not  quite  open  her  eyes. 

"  I  am  so  cold,"  she  moaned  ;  and  the  white 
feet  were  drawn  up  a  very  little,  but  so  stiffly,  as 
though  the  whole  body  had  been  dragged  with 
them. 

Denis's  blood  froze  as  he  remembered  some  vague 
saying  that  the  feet  die  first ;  even  in  the  hot  sun 
these  looked  dead  enough ;  they  also  must  be 
brought  to  life,  and  the  arch  enemy  repulsed  at 
every  point,  at  any  sacrifice.  In  Denis,  or  rather  in 
the  Denis  who  was  least  a  Dent,  the  act  would 
almost  outstrip  the  thought ;  this  was  the  Denis  who 
was  saving  his  darling's  life  without  time  to  realize 
what  she  was  to  him.  Quicker  than  thought  he 
had  tipped  up  the  bottle  itself,  so  that  the  brandy 
came  out  in  gulps,  first  over  one  pale  foot  and  then 
the  other.  And  now  the  left,  now  the  right,  now 
with  one  hand  apiece,  and  anon  with  both  to- 
gether for  one  foot,  did  he  chafe  and  rub,  and  rub 
and  chafe,  until  the  little  lead  feet  were  such  pink 
shells,  but  so  warm,  so  warm  that  the  tears 


THE    CASTAWAYS  21 

stood  in  his  eyes.  For  he  had  been  long  enough 
at  it  to  think  a  little  as  he  rubbed ;  but  as  yet  it  was 
otherwise  with  her ;  she  could  only  lie  there  with 
closed  eyes,  as  meek  and  unashamed  as  any  other 
dying  soul. 

She  was  not  going  to  die,  however,  unless  Denis 
dropped  dead  first.  When  he  could  leave  her  feet  he 
had  a  turn  at  her  hands,  a  much  shorter  journey  for 
the  blood,  and  by  the  time  they  began  to  clasp  his 
feebly  there  was  no  more  brandy  left.  Denis  went 
for  another  bottle,  and  half  the  next  dose  she 
swallowed  properly;  the  rest  she  pushed  toward 
him. 

"  To  please  me,"  she  whispered :  they  were  her 
first  words,  and  it  his  first  drop. 

Now  she  was  lying  with  her  eyes  tight  shut,  but 
not  in  sleep.  Her  lips  moved,  first  in  the  faintest 
smile,  then  in  more  whispers. 

"  I  remember — everything.  I  knew  you  would 
come  to  me.  I  knew  it !  " 

He  could  only  say  her  name. 

"  Nan  !     Nan  !     Nan  !  " 

It  was  as  though  his  heart  had  broken,  it  was  so 
full.  He  had  dared  to  call  her  his,  the  other  night 
under  the  awning  ;  he  never  dreamed  of  doing  so 
now.  His  conception  of  honour  forbade  an  endear- 
ment which  she  could  not  repudiate  if  she  would ; 
his  own  delicacy  deplored  the  vital  offices  which  had 
been  thrust  upon  him.  He  had  brought  the  life's 
blood  back  to  leaden  limbs,  but  he  had  brought  it 


22  DENIS    DENT 

back  at  an  expense  which  he  already  apprehended 
dimly.  In  her  right  senses  she  might  have  chosen 
death.  He  had  taken  on  himself  to  give  her  life, 
and  now  she  would  live  to  love  or  loathe  him. 

Gentle  birth  and  hard  upbringing  had  produced 
in  Denis  an  essential  delicacy  underneath  a  some- 
what bluff  exterior ;  but  he  was  not  self-conscious  on 
either  score.  Qualm  and  pang  came  upon  him  as 
part  of  the  situation,  almost  as  his  deserts.  He  was 
not  aware  of  any  fine  feeling  in  the  matter.  He 
was  full  of  feeling,  but  he  did  not  know  that  it  was 
fine. 

Presently  he  saw  she  was  asleep,  and  when  he 
bent  to  listen  she  was  breathing  beautifully ;  he  just 
touched  one  hand,  with  the  strange  new  awe  he  had 
for  her,  and  it  was  warmer  than  his  own.  But  now 
he  was  in  a  new  difficulty ;  he  found  time  to  appre- 
ciate his  own  exhaustion;  a  stiff  pull  of  brandy 
alone  kept  him  from  fainting,  and  he  foresaw  in 
alarm  how  it  would  be.  They  would  both  lie  sleep- 
ing where  they  were,  the  almost  tropical  sun 
would  beat  down  on  them  all  day,  and  they  might 
never  see  another.  The  nearer  cave  was  not 
twenty  yards  away.  Denis  went  to  it,  and  it  was 
lined  with  far  finer  sand  than  outside  ;  he  came  back 
and  gazed  a  moment  on  the  girl.  She  was  very 
young,  and  so  delicately  made  !  He  knew  that  he 
could  carry  her,  feeble  though  he  now  felt :  if  only 
it  did  not  wake  her.  He  gathered  her  tenderly  in 
his  arms :  he  carried  her  to  the  cave,  he  put  her 


THE    CASTAWAYS  23 

down  on  the  cool  fine  sand,  and  all  she  did  was  to 
smile  on  him  in  her  sleep. 

If  only  she  would  when  she  awoke  ! 

Meanwhile  a  pillow  she  must  have  before  Denis 
would  lay  his  own  head  anywhere,  and  he  had  seen 
some  rushes  in  the  thicket.  He  cut  an  armful,  and 
thin  bundle  by  thin  bundle  he  got  the  lot  under  her 
head  at  last.  Then  there  was  the  table.  He 
caught  sight  of  it  along  the  beach,  and  thought 
what  a  fine  screen  it  would  make  for  Nan.  It 
kept  him  up  another  ten  minutes ;  but  by  that 
time,  and  thereafter,  the  sun  might  stream  into 
the  cave,  but  not  a  fiery  finger  would  it  lay  on  Nan. 
So  then  Denis  measured  his  length  at  last,  outside 
the  screen,  as  a  dog  lies  across  the  door. 

On  finally  awaking  (for  many  times  he  dropped 
off  again  deliciously),  his  first  act  was  to  listen  on 
hands  and  knees ;  and  since  the  sound  he  could  just 
hear  was  as  peaceful  as  it  was  regular,  his  next 
was  to  go  outside  and  stick  a  rush  upright  in  the 
sand.  Its  shadow  was  a  short  finger  pointing  sea- 
ward, so  that  he  knew  it  was  about  noon.  The  tide 
had  gone  down.  Denis  walked  to  the  edge  of  the 
surf,  and  there  stood  gazing  up  at  the  cliff  for  many 
minutes.  No ;  there  was  no  way  up  that  he  saw 
or  could  conceive.  Yet  the  little  beach  was  only 
as  the  lees  in  the  flagon  of  a  bay.  There  was  as- 
suredly no  way  round. 

It  is  fifty  years  since  the  wreck  of  the  North 
Foreland  and  the  second  mate's  extraordinary  climb, 


24  DENIS    DENT 

but  the  scene  of  each  remains  an  object  of  interest 
to  visitors  at  the  station  on  the  heights  above,  while 
the  minor  incident  is  unfailing  matter  for  conjecture, 
contention,  and  much  open  incredulity.  It  has  been 
handed  down  that  the  sailor  himself  failed  to  iden- 
tify the  place  within  an  hour  of  his  alleged  perform- 
ance. The  tradition  is  so  far  true.  Denis  never 
pretended  to  know  how  he  had  achieved  the  super- 
human :  had  he  been  in  a  condition  fully  to  appre- 
ciate what  he  was  doing,  the  chances  are  that  he 
never  would  have  made  the  attempt.  He  did  not 
mean  to  make  it  as  it  was.  But  with  the  brandy  in 
him  (and  little  else)  he  had  clambered  a  few  feet  to 
see  whether  the  thing  was  as  impossible  as  it  ap- 
peared. Of  course,  it  was  not;  but  already  it 
seemed  safer  to  climb  a  little  further  than  to  drop  at 
the  risk  of  broken  bones ;  and  so  in  a  minute  he 
found  himself  committed  to  the  ascent.  The  cliff 
had  beetled  by  insidious  degrees  ;  all  at  once  there 
was  nothing  to  be  seen  between  his  naked  feet  and 
the  beach  far  below ;  one  foot  was  soon  bleeding, 
and  the  drops  falling  clear  into  the  sand.  To  drop 
clear  himself  would  have  meant  certain  injury  now; 
as  well  break  neck  as  leg,  thought  Denis,  for  all  the 
use  he  would  be  to  Nan  with  either.  So  on  and  up 
he  went,  now  flattened  for  breath  against  a  favour- 
able slope,  now  swinging  by  the  fingers  from  some 
ledge  that  threatened  to  saw  them  to  the  bone,  anon 
testing  tuft  or  twig  with  his  life,  yet  all  with  so 
light  a  head  that  the  protracted  jeopardy  was  an  ex- 


THE    CASTAWAYS  25 

hilaration  almost  to  the  last.  According  to  Denis, 
it  was  just  at  the  top,  when  a  bunch  of  bracken 
came  up  so  slowly  as  to  enable  him  to  grasp  a 
stronger  bunch  in  time,  that  his  gorge  rose  with 
the  roots. 

Remains  the  undisputed  fact  that  between  one 
and  two  in  the  afternoon,  a  lad  on  the  station, 
whose  boundary  was  these  cliffs,  saw  an  eerie  figure 
approaching  through  the  yellow  dust  of  a  mob  of 
sheep  which  he  happened  to  be  driving  at  the  time. 
It  was  this  lad  whom  the  papers  mentioned  as  Mr. 
James  Doherty ;  but  like  Denis  he  was  Irish  only 
by  descent,  and  not  for  an  instant  did  he  imagine 
that  he  had  seen  the  devil.  He  appeared  to  be  a 
very  quick  youth,  who  knew  the  bush,  and  a  glance 
convinced  him  that  the  ragged  wretch  had  been 
lost  in  it  and  driven  to  some  dreadful  extremity ; 
for  his  face  and  hands  were  all  bloody,  and  even  his 
bare  feet  incrusted  with  blood  and  dust.  More- 
over, his  speech  was  slightly  indistinct,  as  is  the 
case  with  men  who  are  half-dead  with  thirst. 

This  lad  Doherty  was  the  first  person  in  Aus- 
tralia to  learn  the  fate  of  the  North  Foreland,  and 
the  first  to  discredit  the  wild  finish  of  the  wild  man's 
talk. 

"  Why,  there 's  stairs  right  down,"  he  cried. 
"  Over  two  hundred  on  'em,  cut  in  the  sandstone." 

"  What  a  silly  lie,"  sighed  Denis. 

"  Did  you  sample  the  caves  ?  " 

"  One  of  them." 


26  DENIS    DENT 

"Which  one?" 

"  The  one  with  the  big  mouth." 

"  Do  n't  you  tell  me  you  never  went  into  the 
other !  It 's  a  nat'ral  chimbley  at  the  fur  end,  and 
the  boss  had  it  shoved  right  through,  and  steps  cut 
in  the  sandstone  for  bathing." 

The  sailor's  bloodstains  were  cracking  in  a  ghastly 
grin. 

"  So  that  won't  do,  old  man,"  added  Mr.  Doherty, 
severely. 

"Will  these?" 

And  Denis  lifted  one  naked  foot  after  the  other ; 
the  left  sole  showed  a  purple  bruise,  the  right  a 
gash  that  still  dripped  as  he  held  it  up. 

Mr.  Doherty  supposed  that  he  must  be  the  liar, 
but  only  allowed  himself  to  look  confounded  for 
the  moment ;  the  next,  he  was  emptying  his  water- 
bag,  from  which  Denis  had  already  enjoyed  a  deep 
pull,  over  the  wounds.  The  sheep  had  scattered 
right  and  left,  but  the  horse  stood  apparently  fast 
asleep  in  the  sun. 

"  Now  up  you  jump,"  said  Doherty.  "  He 's  as 
quiet  as  a  cow." 

Denis  stared  at  him. 

"  Jump  up  ?     What  for  ?  " 

"  You  're  within  a  mile  of  the  homestead.  You 
struck  the  right  track  on  top." 

"  Oh,  but  I  'm  not  going  on,"  said  Denis  hastily. 
"  I  must  go  back  to — her." 

"  With  them  feet  and  without  your  tucker  ?  " 


THE    CASTAWAYS  27 

And  the  lean  brown  lad  stood  with  his  bare  arms 
akimbo,  a  stained  statue  in  a  flannel  shirt  and  mole- 
skins. 

"  At  once,"  said  Denis.  "  I  Ve  wasted  time 
enough ;  and  if  there  are  stairs  there 's  no  difficulty. 
Go  you  back  to  the  homestead,  and  tell  them  to 
send  down  everything  they  can  think  of  for  a  young 
lady.  Food  and  clothes ;  mind,  she  has  n't  had  a 
bite  since  dinner  yesterday." 

The  young  Australian  doffed  his  wide-awake  with 
a  sweep. 

"  Why,  mister ! "  he  got  out,  but  that  was  all. 
"  I  'm  sorry  I  did  n't  call  you  '  mister '  before,"  he 
added,  after  the  stare  of  an  idolater.  "  I  '11  never 
leave  it  out  again  !  " 

Denis  was  limping  along  only  a  few  minutes  later 
when  the  sound  of  a  gallop  made  him  look  round 
for  the  rider  who  had  just  left  him ;  and  the  same 
horse  it  was,  but  a  different  horseman,  for  whom  the 
stirrups  were  grotesquely  short.  In  a  few  seconds 
he  had  bobbed  and  bounded  into  a  blue-eyed  man 
with  fair  beard  blowing  and  tanned  face  filled  with 
humane  distress. 

"Get  on  this  horse,"  he  cried,  flinging  himself 
off.  "  If  you  do  n't,  I  '11  carry  you  myself  !  There 
— let  me  give  you  a  hand  ;  my  name  's  Kitto ;  this 
is  my  run.  Everything 's  following  in  the  buggy, 
but  here 's  a  biscuit  to  begin  on ;  the  beds  will  be 
made  and  aired  by  the  time  we  get  you  both  back. 
But  only  two  of  you — only  two  !  " 


28  DENIS    DENT 

Mr.  Kitto  had  a  heart  of  gold,  and  wore  it  on  his 
sleeve  ;  rarer  still  was  a  tact  almost  incongruous  in 
that  desolate  spot.  Not  a  question  had  Denis  to 
answer  as  the  horse  ambled  under  him  and  the 
squatter  strode  alongside.  But  when  they  came  to 
the  mouth  of  a  long  stair  tunneled  through  the  soft 
sandstone,  it  was  Mr.  Kitto  who  looked  curiously  at 
the  rude  steep  steps. 

"  Nobody  has  come  up  here,"  said  he.  "  We  had 
a  dust-storm  yesterday  before  the  wind  went  round, 
and  the  sand  on  these  top  steps  is  as  it  drifted." 

Denis  could  afford  to  smile. 

"  So  you  did  n't  believe  it  either." 

"  What 's  that  ?  I  could  believe  the  side  of  a 
house  of  you,  my  brave  fellow !  "  cried  Mr.  Kitto. 
"  I  only  mean  that  your  companion  has  n't  found 
her  way  up  in  your  absence." 

"  Ah,  if  she  could  ! "  sighed  Denis.  "  But  she  is 
so  weak  I  am  afraid  we  shall  have  to  carry  her  up 
between  us." 

The  squatter  smiled,  but  said  nothing. 

"  If  only  she  is  no  weaker — if  only  she  has  slept 
right  through  !  "  Denis  went  on,  and  repeated  him- 
self all  the  way  down  ;  but  at  the  base  he  button- 
holed his  guide. 

"  Do  I  look  very  awful,  sir  ?  Is  my  face  as  bad 
as  my  hands  ?  Wait  a  bit,  then — stay  where  you 
are." 

And  his  injured  feet  could  still  dance  him  down 
to  the  water's  edge ;  but  he  came  stealing  back, 


THE    CASTAWAYS  29 

one  index  finger  to  his  lips,  signing  with  the  other 
to  Mr.  Kitto  to  let  him  go  first ;  and  the  smile  on 
the  cleansed  face  told  that  good  man  a  tale. 

The  mouth  of  the  greater  cave  was  just  as  Denis 
had  left  it.  He  crept  on  all  fours  between  the  table 
legs,  and  listened.  There  was  no  sound.  He 
leaped  up  and  looked  over. 

The  cave  was  empty. 


CHAPTER  IV 
LOST  AND  FOUND 

MR.  KITTO  saw  the  ragged  figure  shoot 
from  the  cave  as  though  propelled  by 
some  unseen  power  within ;  and  for  one 
second  he  imagined  the  worst.  He  was  relieved 
when  the  shipwrecked  sailor  raised  his  voice. 

"  Nan !  Nan !  "  he  yelled.  "  Miss  Merridew ! 
Miss  Merridew !  Nan  !  Nan  !  Nan ! " 

The  squatter,  running  up,  alone  interrupted  him. 

"  She 's  gone ! "  cried  Denis  in  terrible  excite- 
ment. "  Gone  clean  away — God  knows  where  ! 
Look  for  yourself,  if  you  like ;  with  the  sun  pour- 
ing in  you  can  see  to  the  very  end.  Do  you  think 
I  would  miss  her  if  it  were  ten  times  the  size? 
See,  there 's  where  I  left  her  lying  ;  that  was  all  the 
pillow  I  coui  J  give  her ;  you  can  almost  see  the 
shape  of  her  head !  " 

And  the  hoarse  voice  broke  piteously  ;  but  such 
a  firm,  kind  hand  had  him  by  the  arm,  that  Denis 
bit  his  lips  and  blinked  the  tears  back  to  their 
source. 

"  Come,  now,"  said  Kitto,  "  there 's  nothing  won- 
derful in  this  ;  the  only  wonder  is  that  we  did  n't 
expect  it.  Why  should  she  have  slept  so  much 


LOST    AND    FOUND          31 

longer  than  you  ?  She  had  done  far  less  ;  and  they 
are  tougher  than  you  think.  She  would  wake  up 
and  find  you  flown " 

"  Poor  Nan !     Poor  Nan  ! " 

"  And  having  the  vitality  she  must  have,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  pluck,  you  would  n't  expect  her  to 
sit  still  and  wait,  would  you  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  not,"  said  Denis,  gloomily.  "  I  only 
know  I  would  have  died  to  save  her  what  she  must 
have  gone  through  alone — alone." 

"  You  have  done  your  best  to  die  for  her,"  re- 
torted Mr.  Kitto,  with  his  kind  smile.  "  Were  her 
people  on  board  with  her  ?  " 

"  Her  father,  yes  ;  she  has  no  one  else." 

"  Then  you  may  have  to  live  for  her,"  the  older 
man  said  gravely.  "  So  do  n't  commit  any  more  of 
your  follies,  and  above  all  do  n't  make  yourself  ill 
without  a  cause.  She  is  probably  trying  to  find  her 
own  way  to  the  station,  and  it's  safe  to  be  the 
wrong  way." 

"  But  you  said  no  one  had  been  up  those  stairs." 

Mr.  Kitto  stood  confounded  in  the  sun. 

"  She  may  be  about  the  beach  somewhere,"  he 
said  hurriedly.  "  After  all,  it 's  not  so  little  that 
you  take  in  every  cranny  at  a  glance.  Come  and 
let 's  look.  There  are  all  sorts  of  holes  and  corners 
under  the  cliffs,"  he  added  as  they  went,  "  where  my 
children  play  hide-and-seek  at  picnics.  It 's  our 
favourite  place  for  them ;  in  fact,  that 's  why  I  cut 
those  steps.  No  harm  could  come  to  her  here." 


32  DENIS    DENT 

But  his  voice  had  lost  something  of  its  cheery 
confidence,  and  in  spite  of  him  it  lost  more  as  they 
sought  together,  but  sought  in  vain.  As  for  Denis, 
there  was  an  end  to  his  lamentations ;  he  was  past 
that  stage ;  but  his  dumb  eyes  plumbed  the  pit. 

"  Can  you  cooey  ?  "  asked  the  squatter.  "  No, 
you  're  too  hoarse ;  do  n't  try.  But  I  can,  like  a 
blackfellow,  thank  God ! "  And  he  arched  his  sun- 
burned hands  about  his  mouth. 

"  Cooooooooo eeeey !  " 

It  was  long  enough  and  loud  to  reach  the  one 
top-gallant  mast  of  the  North  Foreland  that  they 
descried  between  the  heads,  at  a  certain  stage  of 
their  wanderings,  standing  out  of  the  waves  for  a 
monument  to  those  beneath :  had  a  single  sailor 
been  clinging  to  it,  he  must  have  heard  so  penetrat- 
ing and  so  sustained  a  call :  but  from  the  lost  one 
on  shore,  as  from  the  drowned  multitude  without 
the  gateway  of  sparking  blue,  not  a  sound,  not  a 
sign. 

Doherty  and  another  arrived  with  blankets, 
clothes,  coffee,  mutton,  damper,  billy-can,  every- 
thing that  kind  thought  could  send,  with  a  sweet 
message  from  her  who  sent  them ;  but  this  fell  on 
deaf  ears.  Denis  would  touch  nothing  till  she  whom 
he  had  lost  was  found  again ;  so  the  squatter  thrust 
him  down  into  the  sand,  and  between  them  they 
forced  him  to  make  a  meal.  And  being  at  last  in 
a  more  reasonable  frame,  he  would  have  ended  by 
putting  on  the  shoes  which  he  had  cast  off  in  the 


LOST    AND    FOUND          33 

morning,  and  forgotten  or  despised  ever  since ;  but 
now  his  feet  were  so  swollen,  he  could  not  get  them 
on.  But  as  for  letting  them  send  him  back  to  the 
station  in  the  buggy,  and  leaving  the  search  to 
them,  as  Mr.  Kitto  had  now  the  temerity  to  sug- 
gest, it  was  as  much  as  Denis  could  do  to  hear  him 
out  civilly. 

The  survivor  went  his  own  way  after  this,  and  it 
led  him  first  to  the  summit  of  the  cliffs,  to  see  for 
himself  whether  there  was  no  trace  up  there ;  for 
he  had  been  incredulous  on  that  point  all  along ; 
but  now  so  many  had  been  up  and  down  that  he 
had  still  only  one  man's  word  for  the  absence  of 
foot-marks  in  the  beginning,  and  he  roamed  far 
afield  in  vigilant  circles.  He  had  been  lost  himself 
but  for  a  fire  they  made  on  top  of  the  cliff;  and 
when  he  came  shambling  back  to  the  brink,  down 
below  there  was  quite  a  galaxy  of  lanterns  moving 
in  different  directions,  a  constellation  of  creeping 
stars.  So  they  had  not  found  her  yet ;  and  now  it 
was  black  night. 

In  the  utter  heart-break  of  the  hour,  and  the  last 
stage  of  physical  distress,  Denis  had  half  a  mind  to 
fling  himself  over  and  be  done  with  it  all ;  but  only 
half  a  mind,  and  not  a  hundredth  part  of  the  heart. 
Instead,  as  he  went  down  gingerly  in  the  dusk,  one 
painful  step  at  a  time,  he  reviled  himself  from  top 
to  bottom  for  the  unnecessary  climb  which  is  not 
wholly  credited  to  this  day.  It  was  already  at  the 
root  of  everything  in  the  climber's  mind.  Had  he 


34  DENIS    DENT 

only  explored  the  smaller  cavern,  he  had  been  back 
with  succour  in  one  hour  instead  of  three. 

Mr.  Kitto  meanwhile  had  made  up  his  mind. 
"  We  shall  never  find  her  alive,"  he  whispered  to 
his  overseer,  who  arrived  upon  the  scene  a  little 
before  Denis's  return.  "  But  for  that  poor  fellow's 
sake  we  must  keep  up  the  pretence  a  bit  longer.  I 
can  see  there  was  something  between  them ;  and 
when  we  find  her  body  it  will  probably  kill  him  ; 
and  after  all  every  soul  will  have  been  lost.  Did 
you  know  the  bodies  were  beginning  to  come 
ashore?  There's  a  little  chap  I  take  to  be  the 
skipper :  last  to  leave  and  first  to  land." 

"  But  you  are  n't  looking  for  this  girl  among 
them  ?  "  the  overseer  exclaimed  aghast. 

"  Not  yet ;  but  it  will  come  to  that,"  whispered 
Kitto.  "  I  cooeyed  till  I  was  hoarse ;  that 's  why  I 
can't  raise  my  voice  above  a  whisper  now ;  and  all 
the  rest  of  us  are  in  the  same  box.  Mark  my 
words,  it 's  a  case  of  suicide,  and  a  fearful  case :  the 
poor  thing  was  so  terrified  at  her  position  when  she 
awoke  and  found  herself  deserted  on  this  desert 
coast,  that  it  drove  her  clean  out  of  her  mind.  I 
almost  hope  he  won't  live  to  realize  it  was  that — 
though  he 's  the  sort  we  want  in  this  colony — if  he 
gave  up  the  sea." 

"  Was  there  no  tracking  her  ?  " 

"  Scarcely  a  yard  from  the  mouth  of  the  cave, 
and  he  does  n't  know  I  did  that ;  the  sand  is  so 
heavy  outside.  But  the  tracks  I  did  find  pointed 


LOST    AND    FOUND          35 

straight  to  the  sea.  I  grant  you  there  were  not 
enough  of  them  to  mean  anything  in  them- 
selves." 

They  chanced  to  be  passing  close  to  the  ti-tree 
clump  as  they  conversed.  Suddenly  the  overseer 
stood  still. 

"  You  've  looked  in  there,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  In  there  ?  What  would  be  the  good  ?  It 's 
not  above  a  dozen  yards  thick,  though  so  dense ;  if 
she  were  alive  in  there  she  'd  have  heard  us  long 
ago ;  if  she 's  dead  she 's  in  the  sea.  Why  do  you 
ask?" 

"  I  thought  I  heard  something.     That  was  all." 

They  moved  on  a  few  yards. 

"  I  say,  Mr.  Kitto,  I  do  hear  something !  Listen, 
sir — listen  to  that !  " 

They  heard  the  voice  distinctly,  faint  and  feeble 
though  it  was. 

"  I  am  dying ! "  it  moaned.  "  Ok,  Denis,  where 
are  you?" 

Mr.  Kitto  almost  choked. 

"  Thank  God — but  if  she  does  die ! "  he  croaked 
and  whispered  in  one  breath.  "  We  're  coming  ! 
We  're  coming,  my  dear,  dear  young  lady !  But," 
in  his  whisper,  "  who  's  that  hobbling  toward  us — 
dot-and-carry-one  ?  It 's  Dent,  man,  it 's  Dent  him- 
self; go  and  tell  him  like  a  good  fellow — only  do  n't 
raise  too  much  hope."  And  deeply  agitated,  the 
squatter  thrust  his  lantern  among  the  outer  branches 
of  the  thicket. 


36  DENIS    DENT 

In  an  instant  came  the  faint  voice,  immeasurably 
stronger,  and  poignant  with  a  nameless  agony : 

"  Take  it  away  !  Oh,  take  it  way,  or  I  must  die 
—I  must ! " 

Kitto  flung  his  lantern  far  behind  him :  he  had 
seen  a  terrified  face  among  the  branches,  a  burning 
face  that  told  him  all. 

"  And  you  have  been  here  all  day ! "  he  cried, 
but  chiefly  to  himself,  in  the  inward  glare  of  his  en- 
lightenment. "  And  I  cooeying  till  I  could  cooey  no 
more!" 

"  I  thought  it  was  savages,"  the  voice  in  the 
clump  faltered  unconvincingly.  "  I — I  never  heard 
it  before " 

"  We  have  everything  ready  for  you,"  continued 
Kitto,  cheerily :  "  hot  coffee,  plenty  to  eat,  dry 
clothes,  and  our  best  bed  when  we  get  you  to  it. 
Here,  take  this  to  go  on  with."  His  coat  came  off 
with  the  words,  and  was  thrust  through  the  branches 
until  he  felt  she  had  it.  "  Now  I  '11  get  you  the 
rest,"  he  said,  and  was  hurrying  off. 

"  Wait !  Wait !  "  she  called  to  him,  and  even 
more  strongly  than  in  her  last  alarm.  "  Where  's 
Denis — Denis  Dent?  He  was  the  second  officer, 
and  he  saved  me,  he  alone.  I  must  speak  to  him 
first  ...  to  thank  him  .  .  .  while  I  can !  " 

And  her  voice  broke  for  him,  as  his  had  broken 
for  her,  but  with  more  reason  than  Nan  Merridew 
could  dream  ;  for  Denis  was  lying  close  at  hand  on 
the  beach,  with  the  station  overseer  stooping  over  him. 


CHAPTER  V 
A  TOUCH   OF  FEVER 

DENIS  awoke  between  clean  sheets  in  the 
widest  berth  and  the  largest  cabin  he  had 
ever  occupied  :  it  was  a  matter  of  moments 
to  realize  that  he  was  really  on  land,  for  the  bed 
still  heaved  a  little  as  the  beach  had  done  yesterday, 
or  whenever  it  was  he  had  been  washed  ashore. 
He  felt  as  though  he  had  been  asleep  a  week ;  he 
could  not  have  imagined  so  delightful  a  lassitude  of 
limb  and  spirit.  It  was  a  small  room  without  pre- 
tense of  paper  upon  its  weather-board  walls,  but 
the  toilet  cover  on  Denis's  left  was  as  snowy  as  the 
sheet  under  his  chin,  and  a  sunlit  blind  flapped 
soothingly  behind  it.  Silence  reigned,  but  it  was 
the  peculiarly  drowsy  hush  of  hot  weather,  only 
the  deeper  for  its  innumerable  tiny  sounds :  one 
could  have  heard  that  it  was  hot.  But  there  was  so 
little  on  him,  that  little  was  so  light,  and  so  sweet 
a  draught  blew  through  the  room,  that  in  his  own 
person  Denis  felt  deliciously  cool. 

He  tried  to  remember  how  he  had  come  there, 
but  the  final  stages  were  a  painful  farrago.  He  be- 
held a  bandage  on  either  hand,  and  could  feel  one 
on  head  and  foot ;  but  they  led  him  too  far  back. 


38  DENIS    DENT 

He  had  an  impression  of  the  stars  as  he  lay  upon 
the  beach,  and  another  of  interminable  steps  with 
a  handbreadth  of  starry  sky  at  the  top,  but  there  was 
something  far  more  important  that  he  was  seeking 
in  his  mind  without  avail.  He  certainly  had  not 
found  it  when  the  blind  was  pushed  aside  by  a  sun- 
burned face,  which  vanished  instantly,  to  reappear 
with  its  appertaining  shirt  and  moleskins  in  the 
doorway  opposite. 

"  Awake  at  last,  mister ! " 

"  Only  just,"  said  Denis,  feebly,  but  with  his  first 
smile,  and  the  lad  entered  staring  curiously. 

"  You  could  n't  look  like  that  whilst  we  was 
seekin'  her,"  said  he,  drily.  "  Why,  what 's  wrong 
now?" 

Denis  had  shot  upright  in  bed. 

"  Did  n't  we  find  her  ?  "  he  cried.  "  Yes,  yes,  of 
course  we  did  !  I  remember  now.  I  'm  so  grateful 
to  you  ;  that 's  exactly  what  I  was  trying  to  remem- 
ber. Well?  Well?  And  how  is  she ?" 

"  Right  as  the  mail,  mister,  so  they  all  say ;  but  I 
have  n't  seen  her  yet." 

"  You  're  sure  they  say  so  ?  " 

"  Sure  as  my  name 's  Jimmy  Dockerty." 

Denis  fell  back  with  a  whispered  thanksgiving. 

"  What  did  you  say  your  name  was  ?  "  he  asked 
presently. 

"  Dockerty,"  replied  the  boy.  "  Christian  name 
of  Jim." 

"  Well,  Jim,  I  do  n't  forget  you.     It  was  you  I 


A    TOUCH    OF    FEVER        39 

clapped  eyes  on  first,  and  I  'm  almost  as  glad  to 
see  you  again.  Where  am  I  exactly  ?  " 

"  Merinderie  Station  :  the  barricks." 

"  The  what  ?  " 

"  Where  the  parlour  men  camp,"  explained  Mr. 
Doherty,  darkly.  "  You  've  got  the  tooter's  room  ; 
he  has  his  schoolroom  next  door." 

"  It 's  very  quiet." 

"  They  Ve  all  cleared  out  for  the  day,  apuppus ; 
and  you  ain't  in  the  house,  you  see,  though  nice 
and  handy.  But  I  '11  have  to  go  over  to  the  house, 
to  tell  'em  you  've  waked  up.  There  was  something 
ready  for  you  the  moment  you  did.  But,  I  say — 
mister ! "  And  the  boy  stood  wistfully  beside  the  bed. 

"  Well,  Jim  ?  " 

"  Ask  for  me  to  come  back  and  set  along  of  you  ! 
Say  you  feel  lonely  like,  and  ask  for  me  to  look 
arter  you,  mister.  You  need  n't  take  no  notice  of 
me,  and  no  more  won't  I  say  nothink,  if  you  do  n't 
want." 

"  But  I  shall  want,  Jimmy.  I  shall  want  you  to 
tell  me  heaps  of  things.  Go  and  say  so  for  me,  by 
all  means  ;  and  bring  me  anything  they  like  to  send, 
though  a  cup  of  tea  is  all  I  fancy." 

But  when  a  chop  was  sent  in  characteristic  con- 
junction it  was  eaten  with  its  slice  of  damper,  and 
so  heartily  as  to  exclude  immediate  conversation. 

"  One  thing  at  a  time,"  said  Denis,  "  and  the  next 
thing  is  a  wash ;  but  I  do  n't  mean  to  get  up  yet  a 
bit." 


40  DENIS    DENT 

"  I  would  n't,"  said  the  boy,  removing  the  tray 
and  flourishing  a  towel.  "  The  young  lady,  there 
ain't  any  signs  of  'er  either  ;  I  '11  give  you  the  word 
when  there  is." 

Meanwhile  the  subject  nearest  Denis's  heart  was 
the  one  on  which  he  could  extract  least  informa- 
tion. Doherty  did  not  warm  to  it  as  he  did  to 
other  topics.  And  yet  Denis  could  not  help  liking 
the  lad ;  in  the  first  place,  the  lad  was  openly 
enamoured  of  him,  and  the  present  Denis  far  too 
languid  a  hero  to  object  very  strenuously  to  his 
worship.  There  was  nothing  slavish  about  it; 
hardly  a  word  was  employed  in  its  expression ; 
but  in  the  pauses  the  boy's  eyes  would  remain 
upon  the  man's,  and  once  he  said  he  had  been  to 
see  the  place,  and  continued  gazing  at  Denis  and 
his  bandages  with  redoubled  reverence.  It  ap- 
peared that  many  bodies  had  been  washed  ashore, 
and  Mr.  Kitto  with  nearly  all  his  men  was  down 
there  now.  Mrs.  Kitto  was  at  the  other  bedside, 
and  had  sent  word  that  she  preferred  not  to  leave 
it  in  case  her  patient,  who  had  been  asleep  many 
hours,  should  wake  and  miss  her.  Doherty  sud- 
denly remembered  the  message;  it  drove  Denis 
back  into  yesterday's  inferno,  and  he  lay  with  such 
a  pained  face  that  the  boy  darted  in  with  his  own 
details.  It  was  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  :  Denis 
had  slept  nineteen  hours,  but  Miss  Merridew  was 
beating  him.  And  they  were  the  only  survivors ; 
not  another  soul  had  been  saved. 


A    TOUCH    OF    FEVER        41 

Denis  thought  of  the  hundred  souls  on  board, 
above  all  of  Nan's  father,  her  all  in  this  world, 
to  whose  loss  she  would  awake  now  any  moment. 
And  that  was  a  thought  which  brought  tears  to  the 
second  mate's  eyes,  yet  it  was  one  with  several 
facets,  and  presently  his  eyes  were  shining  in  quite 
a  different  way ;  then  he  caught  himself,  and  little 
Jim  saw  the  marine  bronze  deepen  on  the  heroic 
cheek.  But  at  last  it  was  Jim's  turn,  for  Denis 
turned  to  him  as  though  impatient  of  himself. 

"  Now  let 's  hear  about  you,"  he  said.  "  How 
long  have  you  been  in  Australia,  Jim  ?  " 

"  Only  since  I  was  born,  and  a  bit  before,  and 
ever  after,  amen  !  "  said  Mr.  Doherty ;  and  the  teeth 
displayed  by  his  grin  were  certainly  worthy  of  an 
aboriginal. 

"And  how  long  is  that?"  asked  Denis,  smiling, 
too. 

"  I  do  n't  know.  They  say  as  I  am  a  good  seven- 
teen, but  I  do  n't  look  it,  do  I  ?  " 

"  What !     Do  n't  know  your  own  age  ?  " 

"  Not  to  a  year  or  two." 

"  Did  n't  your  parents  tell  you  ?  " 

"  I  never  had  none,  mister." 

And  Mr.  Doherty  grinned  again. 

"  You  do  n't  remember,  them  ?  " 

"  That 's  what  I  mean.  They  were — I  do  n't 
mind  tellin'  you,  mister,  though  I  'd  rather  bite  my 
tongue  out  than  tell  another  soul  on  the  place  " — 
and  little  Jim  came  sidling  from  his  seat  at  the 


42  DENIS    DENT 

foot  of  the  bed  to  an  easy  distance  from  Denis's 
ear,  a  dead  secret  in  his  astute  young  face.  "  But 
you  '11  think  no  worse  of  a  cove,"  he  went  on, 
whispering,  "  and  you  won't  split  either  ;  so  it 's  a 
bit  of  a  relief  to  tell  you — they  was  both  old 
hands." 

"  Old  hands  ?  " 

"  Lags  ! " 

Now  Denis  understood.  "  Of  course  I  do  n't 
think  the  less  of  you,"  he  said,  gently ;  "  we  are 
what  we  make  ourselves,  at  any  rate  there 's  no 
credit  in  anything  else  we  may  be.  I,  for  in- 
stance   " 

But  Denis  had  strength  enough  left  to  control 
his  tongue,  and  his  parents'  memory  was  too  sacred 
for  association  with  that  of  transported  felons, 
however  little  there  might  be  to  chose  between 
their  sons. 

"  It  might  be  worse,"  the  lad  went  on,  with  an 
elderly  air  the  more  pathetic  for  its  unconscious 
humour :  "  they  was  married  at  Parramatta  factory, 
and  my  mother  let  me  know  it  when  I  was  as  high 
as  this  bed;  it's  the  one  thing  I  recollect  her 
by,  keepin'  on  tellin'  me  that ;  but  'im  I  never  see 
as  I  remember.  Parramatta  factory,"  he  continued, 
lifting  his  shrewd  eyes  once  more,  "  was  the  place 
where  they  kep'  the  women  prisoners,  up  on  the 
Sydney  side  in  the  convict  days  ;  you  could  go  and 
take  your  pick  as  long  as  you  married  her."  The 
boy's  stare  grew  into  a  contemplative  grin,  and 


A    TOUCH    OF    FEVER        43 

Denis  prepared  for  a  familiarity.  "  There  '11  be 
need  for  you  to  go  there,"  said  Mr.  Doherty. 

Denis  was  not  offended ;  either  he  was  too  stricken 
to  be  readily  ruffled,  or  the  young  monkey  had  a 
way  with  him.  He  only  rolled  his  head  on  the  pil- 
low, and  questioned  whether  such  an  establishment 
existed  still. 

"  It  does  n't,"  rejoined  Jim  ;  "  but  even  if  it  did, 
eh  ?  You  're  all  right,  you  see,  so  you  can  go  on 
shaking  your  head  till  you  loosen  it !  /  seen, 
whether  or  no,  last  night  when  you  could  n't." 

"  I  do  n't  want  to  know  what  you  saw,"  cried 
Denis,  vehemently  enough  ;  and  lay  quite  agitated 
between  the  sheets. 

"  I  suppose,"  the  imp  pursued,  with  a  precocious 
union  of  tact  and  tenacity,  "  you  '11  go  and  get  mar- 
ried straight  away,  and  never  let  us  see  or  hear  from 
you  again." 

Denis  set  his  teeth,  not  because  the  boy  jarred, 
but  at  the  gulf  between  this  fancy  picture  and  the 
possibilities  of  the  case  as  it  now  stood.  It  was 
characteristic  of  him  that  for  the  first  time  they 
seemed  impossibilities.  He  had  saved  her  life,  and 
now  they  were  alone  in  the  world,  he  and  she  :  how 
could  he  trade  on  such  things,  how  avoid  the  sus- 
picion of  trying  to  trade  on  them  ?  If  only  an- 
other had  saved  her !  If  only  others  had  been 
saved ! 

"  Do  n't  speak  of  it,"  he  groaned.  "  I  am  far  too 
poor." 


44  DENIS    DENT 

"  Too  poor,  are  you  ?  " 

The  boy  had  brightened. 

"  And  she  is  too  rich." 

"  Then  what  more  do  you  want,  mister  ?  " 

"  What  more  ?  It  should  be  the  opposite  way ; 
we  should  both  be  one  thing  or  the  other.  Any- 
thing but  as  we  are !  " 

There  was  a  brief  intermezzo  of  the  tiny  summer 
noises.  The  blind  flapped ;  a  mosquito  sang  an 
ominous  solo  in  the  sick  man's  ear ;  from  without 
came  the  faint  hacking  of  an  axe  at  the  wood-heap. 
Denis  looked  up  at  last,  and  there  sat  Jim  with  a 
startlingly  wise  face  upon  his  narrow  young  shoul- 
ders. 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  should  do,  if  I  was  you, 
mister  ?  " 

"Well,  what?" 

"  If  I  felt  same  as  you,"  said  Mr.  Doherty,  "  I  'd 
make  a  fortune. same  as  hers." 

Denis  smiled  tolerantly ;  the  urchin  amused  him. 

"  Well,  and  how  would  you  do  that  ?  " 

"  I  should  go  up  to  Ballarat,  and  peg  out  my 
claim,  as  sure  as  my  name  's  Jimmy  Dockerty  ! " 

"  It  would  have  to  be  a  lucky  one,"  said  Denis, 
dryly,  though  not  until  he  had  paused  to  think. 

"  Then  it  would  n't  be  the  only  one,"  retorted 
Doherty,  with  the  readiness  of  their  common  race. 

Denis  could  not  help  dallying  with  the  idea. 

"  Have  they  been  doing  such  good  business  up 
there,  then  ?  " 


A    TOUCH    OF    FEVER        45 

"  Good  !  Why,  have  n't  you  heard  ?  There  's 
never  been  such  doings  as  they  've  had  on  Ballarat 
this  year.  I  thought  it  was  all  over  the  world,"  the 
boy  added,  with  shining  eyes. 

"  It  may  be,"  said  Denis,  "  but  I  've  been  at  sea 
since  June,  and  it  is  n't  exactly  in  a  sailor's  line." 

"  Is  n't  it !  "  laughed  Jimmy.  "  You  wait  till  you 
see  the  empty  ships  in  Hobson's  Bay  !  Some  of  'em 
been  stuck  there  since  the  last  day  of  January,  when 
the  fun  began.  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  never 
heard  of  the  big  finds  in  Canadian  Gully  ?  " 

"  You  tell  me,  Jimmy.     I  want  to  hear." 

Denis  was  leaning  on  an  elbow.  Jimmy  had 
long  been  on  his  feet. 

"  There  were  some  coves  had  a  claim  in  Canadian 
Gully,  on  Ballarat,"  the  boy  began,  a  wild  light  in 
his  face,  a  light  that  Denis  had  never  seen  before. 
"  They  were  doing  well,  but  not  too  well,  and  they 
offered  to  sell  the  hole  for  a  matter  of  three  hun- 
dred. Then  one  of  them  went  down  and  came  up 
with  a  nugget  weighing  sixty-six  ounces  !  " 

"  At  how  much  the  ounce  ?  " 

"  About  four  guineas." 

"  Well,  that  was  n't  quite  the  three  hundred." 

"  Stop  a  bit ! "  cried  Doherty,  a  perfect  fever  in 
his  eyes,  a  fever  as  new  to  Denis  as  the  light  upon 
the  lad's  face.  "  That  was  only  the  beginning  of  it. 
Of  course  they  would  n't  sell  after  that.  And  be- 
fore night  they  'd  got  a  nugget  of  a  hundred  and 
twenty  pounds.  Troy  weight — whatever  that  is — 


46  DENIS    DENT 

perhaps  you  can  turn  it  into  the  other  pounds,  for 
I  can't." 

Denis  sat  forward,  pressing  the  lint  upon  his  fore- 
head with  his  hands.  When  at  length  he  looked 
up  there  was  the  same  light  beneath  the  bandages, 
the  same  fever  in  the  still  blood-shot  eyes,  as  Denis 
himself  had  remarked  in  the  face  and  eyes  of  his 
companion. 

"  Six  thousand  pounds ! "  he  whispered  almost 
aghast. 

"  Six  thousand  golden  sovereigns  ! "  shouted  the 
lad,  capering  about  the  room.  "  Think  of  that, 
mister,  think  of  that !  I  had  it  read  to  me  out  of 
the  papers.  I  got  it  off  by  heart.  It  was  one  big, 
solid,  yellow  lump  of  gold,  and  they  had  to  carry  it 
between  them  slung  to  a  pole.  It  was  n't  the  only 
one,  neither;  as  they  went  tunneling  on  it  stuck 
out  of  the  sides,  like  bunches  of  grapes — at  twenty 
pound  a  berry !  There  was  only  four  on  'em  in 
the  party ;  they  made  their  fortunes  in  less  than  no 
time;  and  two  on  'em  was  new  chums,  same  as 
you  'd  be  if  you  went  up  and — and " 

"  And  what,  boy  ?  " 

"  And  took  me  along  with  you  ! " 

Denis  only  wondered  that  the  little  brown  face, 
thrust  so  near  him  in  its  eagerness,  did  not  burst 
into  actual  flame ;  it  never  occurred  to  him  that  his 
own  was  perhaps  presenting  the  like  phenomenon. 

"  You  talk  as  though  you  'd  been  there  already, 
Jimmy,"  said  he. 


A    TOUCH    OF    FEVER        47 

"  But  I  have  n't.  I  'd  only  give  my  two  ears  to 
go.  The  boss  won't  let  me.  He  says  I  'm  too 
young ;  and  he 's  been  such  a  jolly  good  boss  to 
me,  I  have  n't  the  heart  to  go  agin  him,  especially 
when  he 's  promised  me  my  kit  if  I  wait  till  the  Noo 
Year.  But  I  b'lieve  he  'd  give  'em  me  to-morrow, 
mister,  if  I  was  going  up  with  you  !  " 

It  was  a  strange  talk  for  Denis  on  the  day  after 
his  deliverance,  in  the  bed  where  they  had  laid  him 
more  dead  than  alive,  but  the  manner  of  its  ending 
was  the  strangest  part  of  all.  In  the  fever  that  was 
so  new  to  Denis,  that  he  had  a  touch  of  it  before  he 
dreamed  there  was  such  a  disease,  he  not  only  forgot 
the  perils  through  which  he  had  passed,  but  his 
every  sense  turned  blunt  by  comparison  with  the 
intensely  keen  edge  put  so  suddenly  on  certain  of 
his  desires.  He  had  not  heard  the  voices  outside ; 
neither  had  Doherty ;  and  the  feet  upon  the  thresh- 
old fell  upon  four  equally  deaf  ears.  It  was  not 
until  Mr.  Kitto  opened  the  door,  and  entered  first, 
that  the  one  looked  round  and  the  other  up. 

"  Here,"  said  the  squatter,  "  is  a  gentleman  whom 
I  know  you  will  be  heartily  thankful  to  see  again." 

The  gentleman  stood  forward  with  outstretched 
hands  and  a  quivering  lip. 

It  was  John  Merridew. 


CHAPTER  VI 
NEW  CONDITIONS 

THE   following   were   the   facts,   as    Denis 
grasped  them  by  degrees. 
Not  many  minutes  had  elapsed  between 
the  mishap  to  the  port  life-boat  and  the  resolution 
of  the  North  Foreland  into  so  much  wood  and  iron 
at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  with  a  single  top-gallant 
mast  standing  out  to  mark  the  place.     But  during 
those  few  minutes  the  minor  disaster  had  caused 
another. 

The  loss  of  the  first  boat  augured  ill  for  the  rest ; 
and,  indeed,  only  the  chief  officer's  lived  to  salute 
the  sun  ;  but  before  it  was  launched,  Miss  Merridew 
had  been  swept  overboard  through  the  little  faith 
of  her  own  friends,  who  had  lashed  her  life-belt  to  a 
fallen  spar,  only  to  give  a  gratuitous  handle  to  the 
next  great  wave. 

It  was  Captain  Coles  whose  last  remembered  act 
had  been  to  prevent  one  or  both  gentlemen  from 
diving  after  her  to  their  death — some  said  with  his 
revolver  at  their  heads ;  and,  as  if  because  neither 
seemed  to  care  any  longer  for  his  life,  these  were 
the  two  male  passengers  to  be  saved.  They  were 
dragged  into  the  mate's  boat.  The  boat  was  sue- 


NEW    CONDITIONS  49 

cessfully  launched  by  a  mixture  of  good  manage- 
ment and  better  luck.  But  it  was  entirely  to  the 
mate's  credit  that  she  immediately  stood  out  to  sea, 
and  so  continued  until  picked  up  by  a  coasting 
vessel,  which  landed  the  party  in  Melbourne  before 
night.  The  post-haste  journey  to  the  landward 
scene  of  the  wreck,  all  that  night  and  nearly  all 
next  day  (it  was  a  matter  of  a  hundred  miles  up 
and  across  country),  was  only  such  as  any  father 
would  have  undertaken  in  the  circumstances,  and 
most  men  in  Ralph  Devenish's  position  would  have 
taken  with  him. 

But  Captain  Devenish  did  not  accompany  Mr. 
Merridew  to  the  little  outbuilding  in  which  Denis 
lay;  nor  did  Jim  Doherty,  or  his  master,  remain 
even  so  long  as  to  see  the  older  man  take  the  band- 
aged hands,  tenderly,  tremulously,  in  both  of  his. 

The  interview  which  followed  was  an  affecting 
one ;  but  Denis  had  done  too  much,  too  recently,  to 
take  a  very  emotional  view  of  his  exploits.  In  his 
heart  he  took  little  credit  for  them.  It  was  not  he 
who  had  saved  Nan  Merridew's  life,  but  a  merciful 
God  who  had  merely  used  him  as  His  tool ;  and 
while,  perhaps,  more  thankful  than  he  now  knew 
for  that  supreme  preferment,  the  prostrate  man  was 
almost  morbidly  alive  to  its  disadvantages.  Thus, 
when  Mr.  Merridew  led  the  conversation  back  al- 
most to  the  point  at  which  their  last  had  been  inter- 
rupted, it  was  Denis  who  created  the  awkward  si- 
lence. He  was  touched  by  the  uncontrolled  revela- 


50  DENIS    DENT 

tion  of  a  hard  man's  soft  side,  by  the  contrast 
between  the  exceedingly  deliberate  and  rather  irri- 
tating voice  that  he  remembered  on  the  poop,  and 
the  voice  that  still  broke  with  very  tenderness.  But 
his  own  voice  was  so  much  the  more  dispassionate, 
and  apparently  perverse. 

"  I  unsay  every  word,"  said  Mr.  Merridew,  for 
the  second  time,  and  more  pointedly  than  ever ;  for, 
even  in  his  really  generous  emotion,  he  could 
not  help  feeling  that  it  was  unsaying  a  great 
deal. 

Denis  nodded  from  his  pillow,  but  only  to  signify 
that  he  heard.  "  You  are  very  kind,"  he  answered 
at  length,  with  no  ironic  intent ;  "  too  kind,  I  al- 
most think.  You  might  live  to  regret  it." 

"  No,  no  ;  never,  never !  Now  I  know  what  you 
are." 

"  I  am  a  junior  officer  in  the  merchant  service — 
with  a  captain's  certificate." 

Mr.  Merridew  was  genuinely  pained.  "  Dent," 
said  he,  "  I  take  back  my  words  twice  over,  and 
still  you  throw  them  in  my  teeth  !  Surely  you 
must  see  that  everything  is  altered  now  ?  " 

"  But  it  might  have  happened  to  anybody  else," 
urged  Denis,  with  gentle  tenacity.  "  You  should 
look  at  it  in  that  way,  Mr.  Merridew.  Suppose  it 
had  been  one  of  the  stewards ;  for  all  you  knew,  or 
seemed  prepared  to  believe,  I  was  no  more  eligible 
than  they,  the  night  before  last.  I  have  been  in- 
finitely lucky — no,  blessed,  blessed! — but  that's  all. 


NEW    CONDITIONS          51 

It  does  n't  give  me  ten  thousand  pounds  to  put  to 
hers." 

Mr.  Merridew  jumped  up  from  the  bedside.  It 
was  partly  with  temper  that  he  was  trembling  now. 

"  Have  you  changed  your  mind  already,  Mr. 
Dent,  or  is  all  this  so  much  affectation  on  your 
part  ?  Did  you  mean  what  you  said  to  me  that 
night  before  we  struck  or  did  you  not  ?  " 

"  Every  word  of  it,"  answered  Denis,  in  a  whis- 
per that  brought  the  other  back  to  his  former  posi- 
tion on  the  bed,  only  now  he  was  peering  into  eyes 
averted  from  his  own. 

"  You  do  love  her,  do  n't  you,  Dent  ?  I  can  see 
it — I  can  see  it — whatever  you  may  say ! " 

Denis  could  only  nod.  His  weakness  had  come 
upon  him  very  suddenly.  But  by  an  effort  he  was 
able  to  prevent  it  from  rising  to  his  eyes.  And 
soon  he  was  sufficient  master  of  himself  to  attend 
to  what  Mr.  Merridew  was  saying  with  so  strange 
an  eagerness  of  voice  and  manner. 

"  You  must  come  back  with  us.  That 's  what 
you  must  do.  Melbourne's  a  perfect  pandemo- 
nium :  street  upon  street  of  tents,  teeming  with  the 
very  sweepings  of  the  earth,  and  ship  upon  ship 
without  a  man  on  board.  But  there  's  a  fine  clip- 
per, the  Memnon  by  name,  lying  ready  for  sea  at 
Geelong,  and  we'll  all  go  home  in  her  together. 
She 's  bound  to  be  under-officered,  and  I  suppose 
you  would  be  happier  so  than  as  a  passenger ;  but 
let  this  voyage  be  your  last.  You  said  you  were  as 


52  DENIS    DENT 

good  a  man  ashore  as  at  sea,  if  my  memory  serves 
me  as  well  as  yours.  Well,  now  I  can  believe  you, 
and  in  you,  as  I  shall  show  you — as  I  shall  very 
soon  show  you  !  I  have  no  one  to  follow  me  in 
the  firm,  Denis — that 's  your  name,  is  n't  it  ? — and 
you  do  n't  mind  my  calling  you  by  it,  do  you  ? 
But  if  you  became  my  son,  Denis  .  .  .  can't 
you  see  .  .  .  can't  you  see  ?  " 

The  man's  tongue  had  run  away  with  him,  as 
the  unlikeliest  tongues  will,  under  strong  emotional 
strain :  so  we  prattle  of  our  newly  dead,  magnifying 
the  good  that  we  belittled  in  their  lives.  But  here 
the  strain  was  far  greater ;  for  she  who  had  been 
dead  was  alive  again  ;  and  this,  this  was  her  saviour, 
for  whom  nothing,  not  even  the  girl  herself,  was 
now  too  good. 

"  There  is  one  thing  you  have  forgotten,"  said 
Denis,  without  withdrawing  his  hand  from  the  nerv- 
ous grasp  that  now  hurt  considerably.  "  I  had  not 
got  my  answer — the  other  night.  And  how  can  I 
press  her  for  it  now  ?  Do  n't  answer  yourself,  sir, 
till  you  have  thought  it  over,  if  I  may  ask  that 
much  of  you,  alone ;  and  then  I  know  you  will 
agree  with  me.  She  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to 
give  me  her  answer  now.  And  I — I  ought  to  go 
away  without  seeing  her  again — until  I  have  really 

shown  myself "  He  could  not  finish.  His 

weakness  and  his  sincerity  were  equally  apparent : 
deeply  moved,  the  elder  man  took  his  leave,  with 
but  one  more  syllable,  and  that  to  promise  Denis, 


NEW    CONDITIONS          53 

from  the  door,  not  to  repeat  a  word  of  their  con- 
versation to  Nan. 

But  Denis  had  not  said  all  that  it  was  in  him  to 
say,  for  in  the  first  place  he  had  not  the  heart,  and  in 
the  next  he  was  not  too  proud  of  his  latest  resolve ; 
but  it  was  a  resolve  no  less,  and  already  it  might 
have  been  the  resolve  of  his  life. 

"  This  is  not  the  real  man,"  he  lay  saying  to  him- 
self. "  The  real  man  had  his  say  on  the  poop — and 
the  sounder  man  of  the  two.  I  won't  take  advan- 
tage of  either  of  them.  Let  me  make  that  money. 
I  can,  and  I  will.  Then  she  shall  give  me  her  an- 
swer— not  before." 

And  yet  he  had  an  uneasy  conscience  about  his 
new  resolve,  plausible  as  it  became  in  words ;  but 
the  qualm  only  hardened  it  within  him ;  and  he  lay 
in  the  twilight  with  set  teeth  and  dogged  jaw,  quite 
a  different  Denis  from  the  one  who  had  leaned  for- 
ward to  listen  to  Jimmy  Doherty,  but  every  inch 
a  Dent. 

Doherty  came  stealing  back  with  the  face  of  a 
conspirator ;  his  worldly  wisdom  did  not  as  yet  in- 
clude a  recognition  of  the  difficulty  of  picking  up 
broken  threads,  even  when  they  are  threads  of  gold. 
Denis  would  not  promise  to  speak  to  Mr.  Kitto, 
would  hear  no  more,  indeed,  of  Ballarat ;  all  he 
seemed  to  care  to  know  now  was  what  Captain 
Devenish  was  doing  with  himself. 

"  Him  with  the  whiskers  ?  "  said  Jimmy.  "  I 
can't  sight  that  gent ! " 


54  DENIS    DENT 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Beg  yer  pardon,  mister,  but  I  do  n't  like  him. 
He  speaks  to  you  like  as  if  you  was  a  blessed  dingo. 
That  sort  o'  thing  do  n't  do  out  here ;  we  ain't  used 
to  it."  And  young  Australia  shook  a  sage  old 
head. 

"  But  what 's  he  doing  with  himself,  Jimmy  ?  " 

"  Oh,  lookin'  at  the  papers  an'  things,  an' 
yawnin'  an'  smokin'  about  the  place." 

"  And  Mr.  Merridew  ?  " 

"  With  the  young  lady.  She  ain't  a-goin'  to 
show  up  to-night,  the  young  lady  ain't ;  and  you 
can  take  that  as  gospel — for  I  had  it  from  the 
missus  herself." 

The  boy's  eyes  were  uncomfortably  keen  and 
penetrating.  Denis  got  rid  of  him,  and  lay  think- 
ing until  it  was  nearly  dusk.  Then  they  brought 
him  his  first  solid  meal ;  and  presently  Mrs.  Kitto 
paid  a  visit  to  a  giant  so  refreshed  that  nothing 
would  persuade  him  to  keep  his  bed  without  a  break. 
He  must  have  a  breath  of  air :  he  was  quite  him- 
self. So  early  evening  brought  him  forth  in  a  pair 
of  Mr.  Kitto's  slippers. 

The  very  first  person  he  saw  was  Ralph  Devenish, 
reading  by  lamplight  in  one  of  the  many  rude  ve- 
randas which  faced  and  flanked  one  another  under 
the  bright  Australian  stars.  Denis  went  limping  up 
to  him  with  outstretched  hand. 

"  I  am  glad  to  set  eyes  on  you,  Devenish,"  he  said 
gravely. 


NEW    CONDITIONS          55 

"  Really  ?  "  drawled  the  other,  with  light  incre- 
dulity; but  he  could  hardly  refuse  the  bandaged 
hand. 

"  Ralph  Devenish,"  pursued  Denis,  chilled  but 
undeterred,  "  I  make  no  apology  for  the  sudden 
familiarity,  partly  because  we  've  both  been  so  near 
our  death,  and  partly  because  we  're  cousins.  My 
mother  was  a  Devenish ;  you  may  open  your  eyes, 
but  I  would  drop  them  if  I  came  of  the  stock  that 
treated  her  as  her  own  people  did  !  I  never  meant 
to  tell  you,  for  there  can  be  no  love  to  lose  between 
your  name  and  mine,  but  I  blurted  it  out  in  a  rage 
just  before  we  struck.  I  want  to  say  that  I  'm 
heartily  ashamed  of  the  expressions  I  made  use  of 
then ;  that  I  apologize  for  them,  and  take  them 
back." 

"  My  good  fellow,"  replied  Devenish,  with  en- 
gaging candour, "  I  do  n't  recollect  one  of  them ;  the 
fact  is,  I  was  a  little  drunk.  As  to  our  relationship, 
that 's  very  interesting,  I  'm  sure  ;  but  it 's  odd  how 
one  does  run  up  against  relations,  in  the  last  places 
you  'd  expect,  too.  I  can't  say  I  remember  your 
name,  though  ;  never  heard  it  before,  to  my  knowl- 
edge. If  there's  been  anything  painful  between 
your  people  and  mine,  don't  tell  me  any  more 
about  it,  like  a  good  feller." 

"  I  won't,"  said  Denis,  secretly  boiling  over, 
though  for  no  good  reason  that  he  could  have 
given.  It  certainly  was  not  because  Devenish  con- 
tinued occupying  the  only  chair,  leaving  the  lame 


56  DENIS    DENT 

man  to  stand.  Denis  was  glad  to  have  so  whole  a 
view  of  him  as  the  lamplight  and  the  easy  chair 
afforded.  Save  for  the  patent  fact  that  his  clothes 
had  not  been  made  for  him,  the  whiskered  captain 
looked  as  he  had  looked  on  board,  a  subtle  cross 
between  the  jauntily  debonair  and  the  nobly  bored. 
As  Denis  watched  he  produced  the  same  meer- 
schaum that  he  had  smoked  all  the  voyage,  a  Turk's 
head  beautifully  coloured,  with  a  curved  amber 
mouthpiece,  and  proceeded  to  fill  it  from  the  same 
silken  pouch. 

"  Another  soul  saved,  you  see ! "  said  Ralph 
Devenish,  as  he  tapped  his  Turk  affectionately ;  it 
was  the  acme  of  sly  callousness,  even  if  intended  so 
to  appear.  Denis  turned  away  in  disgust,  but 
turned  back  for  a  moment  in  his  stride. 

"  Are  you  going  home  with  the  Merridews  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  I  do  n't  know,"  said  Devenish.     "  Are  you  ?  " 

"  I  do  n't  know,"  echoed  Denis.  "  But  I  think — 
not." 

"  Really  ? "  drawled  Devenish.  "  Well,  as  a 
year's  leave  do  n't  last  forever,  I  'm  not  so  sure." 

And  as  Denis  saw  the  last  of  him  under  the 
lamp,  he  had  not  yet  resumed  the  filling  of  the 
Turk's  head. 


CHAPTER  VII 

DENIS  AND  NAN 

MISS   MERRIDEW  continued  prostrate, 
yet  so  exempt  from  bodily  mischief  that 
her  case  began  to  baffle  all  except  the 
other  woman,  who  had  charge  of  it. 

Mr.  Merridew  allowed  himself  to  be  dissuaded 
from  obtaining  indifferent  medical  advice  at  exor- 
bitant cost,  but  his  anxiety  increased  with  his  per- 
plexity, and  was  only  allayed  by  his  instinctive  con- 
fidence in  Mrs.  Kitto.  That  lady  proved  as  prac- 
tical and  understanding  as  she  was  good  and  kind. 
Yet  even  Mrs.  Kitto  was  puzzled  just  at  first.  They 
had  to  deal  with  one  singularly  reserved — who 
could  lie  for  hours  without  closing  an  eye  or  utter- 
ing a  word — and  the  father's  way  was  to  force  her 
to  say  something,  at  the  pain  of  his  own  passionate 
distress.  But  Mrs.  Kitto  would  bring  in  her  sew- 
ing, of  which  she  seemed  to  have  a  great  deal,  and 
sit  over  it,  also  by  the  hour,  in  a  quietude  as  grate- 
ful as  her  sparing  speech.  She  was  very  observant, 
however,  and  the  one  thing  that  puzzled  her  only 
did  so  in  the  beginning.  This  was  the  anomaly 
presented  by  a  patient  whose  face  was  often  in  a 
burning  fever  while  her  head  and  hand  kept  per- 
fectly cool. 


58  DENIS    DENT 

The  wreck  was  never  mentioned  in  the  sick-room, 
nor  did  Nan  guess  that  an  inquest  on  the  bodies 
was  held  within  a  few  yards  of  where  she  lay.  Yet 
it  was  she  who  eventually  broke  the  ice. 

"  Is  Mr.  Dent  still  here  ? "  she  asked,  but  in  a 
tone  so  magnificently  offhand  that  a  less  astute 
person  than  Mrs.  Kitto  would  have  detected  its 
anxiety  as  soon. 

"  He  was  this  morning,"  replied  Mrs.  Kitto, 
smiling. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  he  is  n't  now  ?  "  the  girl  de- 
manded, half-rising  on  an  elbow. 

"  No.  I  think  I  should  have  heard  of  it  if  he 
had  thought  of  leaving  us  to-day." 

Nan  Merridew  fell  back  upon  her  pillow. 

"  I  wish  he  would  go  on  board,"  she  said  petu- 
lantly, "  if  he  is  going." 

"  On  board  ? "  queried  Mrs.  Kitto ;  and  she  set 
down  her  work. 

"  Is  n't  he  to  be  one  of  the  officers  on  the  ship 
we  are  all  going  home  by  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't  know  of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Kitto,  with 
equal  embarrassment  and  surprise. 

"  But  he  is,"  declared  the  girl,  with  all  an  invalid's 
impatience.  "  I  understood  that  from  papa  the  day 
he  came ;  he  had  spoken  to  the  agents,  or  he  was 
going  to  speak  to  them,  and  Denis — I  mean  Mr. 
Dent — was  to  have  the  best  berth  they  could  give 
him.  I  do  wish  he  would  go  on  board.  I — I  al- 
most wish  he  had  n't  saved  my  life ! " 


DENIS    AND    NAN  59 

And  she  tossed  her  face  to  the  wall,  for  it  was 
burning  as  it  had  burned  so  often  since  her  deliver- 
ance. 

"  It 's  meeting  him  again,"  said  Mrs.  Kitto  to  her- 
self; "and  she  does  care  for  him,  or  she  would 
mind  less."  It  made  it  all  the  harder  to  ask  aloud, 
"  Did  your  father  say  he  had  succeeded,  dear  ?  " 

"  We  have  never  mentioned  Mr.  Dent  again," 
said  Nan  to  that,  quite  haughtily. 

"  Because  I  do  n't  think  he 's  sailing  in  the  Mem- 
non  at  all,"  continued  Mrs.  Kitto,  gently.  "  I  think 
he's  going  to  the  diggings  instead." 

"  Going  where  ?  "  the  girl  asked  after  a  pause. 
The  first  sentence  was  all  that  she  had  heard. 

"  To  Ballarat  or  Bendigo — to  make  his  fortune." 

"  I  hope  he  '11  succeed,"  said  Nan,  after  a  pause  ; 
but  her  voice  was  a  sweet  bell  jangled,  and  an  hour 
went  before  she  turned  her  face  from  the  wall.  It 
was  still  red,  but  there  was  a  subtle  difference  in  the 
shade.  And  in  the  hazel  eyes,  which  were  the 
most  obvious  of  Miss  Merridew's  natural  attractions, 
there  was  a  crude,  new  light. 

"  I  am  going  to  get  up,"  said  she. 

Mrs.  Kitto  proved  not  unprepared  for  the  an- 
nouncement ;  it  appeared  that  all  her  needlework 
had  been  for  Nan,  and  now  it  was  as  though  the 
last  stitch  had  just  been  put  into  everything.  It 
was  all  a  surprise  to  the  girl,  who  had  not  given 
the  matter  a  thought.  She  was  to  get  a  fresh  outfit 
at  Geelong,  before  the  ship  sailed,  but  Mrs.  Kitto 


60  DENIS    DENT 

insisted  on  sending  her  so  far  equipped  by  herself. 
And  the  dress  which  the  kind  soul  had  been  so 
busy  altering  was  almost  the  last  remnant  of  her 
own  trousseau,  and  some  years  behind  the  fashion. 

In  point  of  fact  it  was  what  used  to  be  called  a 
"  double  robe "  of  lavender  cashmere ;  and  it  was 
trimmed  with  braid  of  the  same  colour,  but  the  braid 
was  a  shade  darker  than  the  rest,  and  its  criss-cross 
pattern  as  unlovely  in  its  way  as  the  voluminous 
skirts  it  was  intended  to  adorn.  But  the  fabric  was 
soft  and  fine,  and  the  delicate  tint  happened  to  suit 
Nan  Merridew,  who  had  a  singularly  clear  and  pale 
skin,  and  dark  gold  ringlets  almost  the  colour  of 
her  eyes.  For  she  was  of  the  type  dear  to  the  pre- 
Raphaelites,  with  rather  more  flesh  and  blood,  and 
a  much  more  conspicuous  spirit  of  her  own,  perhaps 
a  little  too  conspicuous  when  Nan  reappeared  in  the 
sunlight,  with  quite  another  light  in  her  eyes,  on  the 
fourth  day  after  the  wreck. 

It  was  near  the  close  of  a  radiant  afternoon,  and 
Mr.  Merridew  was  absent  for  the  day ;  but  Captain 
Devenish  had  been  seen  strolling  toward  the  cliffs, 
and  Nan  thought  that  she  would  stroll  after  him  in 
spite  of  the  direction.  No  one  must  think  of  ac- 
companying her ;  she  would  so  enjoy  finding  the 
way  for  herself.  To  this  Mrs.  Kitto  pretended  to 
make  no  objection,  but  expressed  a  belief  that  Mr. 
Dent  was  with  Captain  Devenish,  thinking  she  had 
named  the  last  deterrent.  On  the  contrary,  it  only 
decided  Nan  to  go  quickly ;  and  go  she  did  with 


DENIS    AND    NAN  61 

that  peculiar  light  stronger  than  ever  in  her 
eyes. 

Now  the  way  led  through  a  belt  of  young  pines, 
by  which  the  station  was  almost  surrounded,  and  in 
the  middle  of  them  Nan  met  a  man  in  moleskins 
and  a  red  shirt.  Him  she  was  approaching  with 
downcast  eyes,  as  one  who  must  regard  her  curi- 
ously, when  his  voice  thrilled  her  at  close  quarters. 

"  Nan  !  And  you  'd  have  passed  me  without  a 
word  !  " 

Denis  was  standing  in  her  path,  a  common  wide- 
awake drooping  from  one  hand,  the  other  reaching 
out  for  hers. 

"  I  did  n't  recognize  you,"  she  said,  scarcely 
touching  his  hand.  "And  I  was  looking  for  Cap- 
tain Devenish — can  you  tell  me  where  he  is  ?  " 

"  He  has  gone  down  to  bathe,"  replied  Denis 
with  some  reluctance.  To  bathe  where  a  ship's 
company  had  been  drowned  that  week  !  No  won- 
der Nan  winced.  "  Can't  you  spare  me  a  few  min- 
utes instead?"  he  added  as  she  was  about  to 
turn. 

"  Oh,  yes,  if  you  wish  it." 

"  Of  course  I  wish  it ! "  exclaimed  Denis.  His 
shoulders  looked  very  square  under  the  coarse  red 
flannel ;  but  they  were  heaving,  too. 

Nan  was  her  own  mistress  on  the  spot.  "  I 
could  n't  know,"  said  she.  "  You  see,  you  never 
sent  me  any  message — not  one  word." 

"  I  shall  tell  you  why." 


62  DENIS    DENT 

"  And  then  I  understood  you  were  going  to  the 
diggings." 

"  So  I  am,"  said  Denis.  His  voice  was  preter- 
naturally  deep  and  vibrant.  She  looked  up  at  him 
with  the  odd  light  in  her  eyes. 

"  And  why  have  n't  you  gone  yet?" 

"  I  wanted  to  see  you  first." 

"  That  was  very  kind." 

"  To  tell  you  why  I  was  going  at  all — to  tell  you 
everything,  Nan,  if  you  will  let  me — if  you  are  n't 
determined  to  misunderstand  me  before  I  open  my 
mouth  ! " 

Their  eyes  were  together  now,  his  dark  with  pas- 
sion, in  hers  a  certain  softening  of  the  unlovely 
light  that  hurt  him  more  than  her  tone :  and  her 
eyes  were  the  first  to  fall,  to  wander,  to  espy  a 
stump  among  the  pines. 

"  I  must  sit  down,"  she  faltered.  "  It 's  my  first 
appearance,  and  I  tire  directly.  But  I  'm  not  too 
tired  to  listen  to  you — I  want  to." 

Yet  already  a  change  had  come  over  her,  and 
either  she  was  physically  weaker  or  else  softer  at 
heart  than  she  had  been  but  a  minute  before.  At 
all  events  she  took  his  arm  to  the  stump,  which  was 
one  of  several  in  a  little  clearing  lit  and  checkered 
by  the  slanting  sun.  And  she  sat  there  almost 
meekly  in  his  sight,  while  Denis  planted  a  foot  upon 
one  of  the  other  stumps  and  said  what  he  had  to 
say  with  bare  arms  folded  across  a  moleskinned 
knee. 


DENIS    AND    NAN  63 

"  In  the  first  place,"  he  began,  "  I  saved  your 
life." 

Nan's  smouldering  spirit  was  in  flames  upon  the 
word,  and  her  face  caught  its  fire. 

"  And  you  remind  me  of  it ! "  she  cried  in  red 
scorn.  "  Is  it  the  sort  of  thing  one  forgets  ?  Is  it 
a  thing  to  thank  you  for  like  any  common  service, 
and  are  you  the  one  to  put  the  words  in  my 
mouth  ?  " 

Denis  did  not  wince. 

"  I  am  wrong,"  he  said,  quietly.  "  In  the  first 
place,  I  asked  you  to  marry  me ;  it  was  only  in  the 
second  place,  and  before  you  had  time  to  give  me 
an  answer,  that  I  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  save  your 
life." 

"  Unfortunate ! " 

"  Most  unfortunate  to  be  the  one  to  save  you, 
Nan,  because  if  it  had  been  any  one  else  it  would 
have  made  no  difference  between  us;  as  it  is  it 
makes  all  the  difference  in  the  world." 

"  I  do  n't  understand,"  she  said,  trembling  be- 
cause she  was  beginning  to  understand  so  well.  "  I 
only  know  how  brave  you  were — how  brave ! " 

And  she  raised  her  sweet  face  without  restraint, 
for  now  she  was  thinking  of  nothing  but  his 
bravery. 

"  Most  men  are  that  at  a  pinch,"  said  Denis,  with 
a  twitch  of  his  red  shirt :  "  but  I  was  luckier  than 
most.  I  won't  make  too  light  of  it.  I  can  swim. 
But  you  do  n't  suppose  I  was  the  only  strong  swim- 


64  DENIS    DENT 

mer  on  board.  And  which  of  the  rest,  I  should 
like  to  know,  would  n't  have  made  as  good  use  of 
my  chance  ?  " 

"  But  it  was  n't  only  the  swimming ! "  the  giri 
cried  without  thinking,  to  break  off  with  her  bent 
face  in  its  besetting  fever. 

"  If  you  mean  the  climbing,"  he  continued 
equably,  "  there  was  still  less  merit  in  that,  for  it 
was  absurdly  unnecessary,  as  you  probably  know, 
besides  which  I  was  full  of  Spanish  brandy  at  the 
time.  Not  that  I  'm  ashamed  of  that,"  added  Denis 
with  the  absolute  candour  of  the  dales.  "  I  believe 
that  brandy  was  the  saving  of  us  both ;  but  it  was 
another  piece  of  pure  luck." 

Nan  said  nothing  for  a  minute.  She  was  trying 
to  see  his  hands,  and  he  showed  her  with  a  shrug 
the  only  ringer  that  was  still  in  rags.  His  wounds 
had  not  been  serious  ;  he  was  scarcely  walking 
lame ;  the  scratches  had  skinned  over  on  his  face. 
She  could  look  in  it  again,  steadfastly,  simply ;  she 
was  even  beginning  to  like  it  better  between  a  wide- 
awake and  an  open  throat  than  in  the  spruce  cap 
and  collar  of  the  voyage.  Her  own  scarlet  she  had 
conquered  in  a  tithe  of  the  time  it  had  often  taken 
her  in  secret :  it  was  not  so  dreadful  to  be  with  him 
after  all.  And  if  he  loved  her  nothing  mattered  : 
not  even  her  long  agony  in  the  ti-tree  thicket. 
Yet  he  had  hurt  her  by  belittling  himself,  and  by 
something  else  of  which  his  last  words  reminded 
Nan. 


DENIS    AND    NAN  65 

"  But  you  do  n't  look  on  it  as  luck.  You  are  n't 
a  bit  glad  you  saved  my  life  !  "  And  her  eyes  fell 
once  more,  if  this  time  not  involuntarily. 

"  Glad  !  "  he  cried  out.  "  Gladness  is  no  word  for 
my  feeling  about  that — for  what  I  feel  every  mo- 
ment of  every  hour." 

"  Yet  you  wish  it  had  been  some  one  else." 

"I  do  n't!" 

"  But  you  said  you  did,  Denis." 

"  Well,  and  I  have  felt  it,  too,  when  I  could  n't 
send  you  a  single  message — could  n't  make  a  single 
sign — for  fear  you  should  think — for  fear  you  should 
misunderstand ! 

Nan  had  not  raised  her  eyes  again;  his  tone 
made  it  difficult  now.  He  was  leaning  toward  her, 
almost  bending  over  her,  and  yet  his  foot  clung  to 
the  pine-stump  as  though  by  conscious  effort  of  the 
will,  and  his  face  was  a  fight  between  set  jaw  and 
yearning  eyes.  But  Nan  could  not  see  his  face; 
she  could  only  see  the  sunlight  and  the  shadows  in 
the  lavender  skirts  that  spread  about  her  as  she  sat, 
and  a  few  inches  of  hard  yellow  ground  beyond. 
She  was  beginning  to  believe  in  his  love,  to  under- 
stand his  position  before  he  explained  it  to  her,  to 
see  the  end  of  her  own  doubts.  His  halting  voice 
was  more  eloquent  than  many  words. 

And  yet  for  words  she  was  constrained  to  probe. 

"  So  you  determined  to  go  up  to  the  diggings  ?  " 

"  I  did." 

"  And  to  leave  me  ?  " 


66  DENIS    DENT 

"  Nan,  I  must." 

His  voice  reconciled  her  more  and  more. 

"  Must  you,  Denis  ?  " 

"  To  make  some  money,  Nan  dear  !  And  I  will 
make  it— I  will— I  will ! " 

She  felt  that  he  would.  His  voice  only  stirred 
her  now. 

"  And  then  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  And  then,"  he  cried,  "  and  then  I  sha'  n't  mind 
pressing  you  for  an  answer  to  what  I  dared  to  ask 
you  on  the  North  Foreland'' 

There  was  a  silence  in  the  little  clearing  among 
the  young  pines.  Only  near  at  hand  the  hum  of 
insects,  and  in  the  distance  a  cloud  of  cockatoos 
shrieking  the  sun  into  the  sea,  and  the  sea  itself 
faintly  booming  upon  the  base  of  the  sandstone 
cliffs.  Before  either  spoke  there  was  indeed  one 
other  sound,  but  it  fell  on  ears  doubly  deaf ;  for 
Nan  had  flung  back  her  dark-gold  ringlets  in  a  way 
of  hers,  and  from  the  bold  pose  of  her  head  none 
could  have  imagined  the  warm  bloom  upon  her 
cheeks,  or  the  tender  film  that  dimmed  the  hazel 
eyes. 

"  Suppose  I  prefer  to  give  you  your  answer 
first?" 

"  Nan  !  Nan  !  I  would  have  you  think  it  over, 
and  over,  and  over  again  !  " 

f  But  suppose  I  refused  you  after  all  ?  " 

"  I  would  sooner  that  than  be  accepted  in  haste 
and — and  repented  of — you  know ! " 


DENIS    AND    NAN  67 

It  was  as  though  he  was  maintaining  his  balance 
for  a  bet,  and  near  the  end  of  his  endurance  even 
so.  Nan  watched  him  with  a  smile  touched  by  the 
last  beams  of  the  setting  sun,  but  as  she  rose  the 
red  glory  beat  full  upon  her. 

"  Very  well ! "  said  she.  "  Then  if  you  won't 
come  to  me  for  your  answer,  I  must  bring  it  to 
you." 

Night  falls  like  an  assassin  in  that  country,  but 
the  purple  tints  were  only  beginning  when  in  his 
very  ear  she  implored  him  not  to  leave  her  any 
more,  and  he  held  her  closer,  but  said  he  must.  It 
would  not  be  for  long.  Others  were  growing  rich 
in  a  day ;  he  would  make  one  more.  He  knew  it ; 
something  told  him ;  and  again,  something  else  told 
her. 

Yet  she  was  vexed  with  herself  for  her  impulsive 
appeal  against  a  decision  to  which  she  had  felt  rec- 
onciled but  the  moment  before;  and  vexed  with 
him  for  scarcely  listening  to  her  appeal,  unpremedi- 
tated as  it  was,  unreasonable  as  it  might  be.  He 
might  have  wavered ;  she  would  not  have  had  him 
yield.  His  resolution  was  fine,  heroic;  she  only 
wondered  whether  it  was  quite  human,  and  wonder- 
ing, lost  the  thread  of  his  defense. 

"  Think,  think ! "  he  urged.  "  Think  what  it 
would  be  for  me  to  go  home  in  this  ship  and  marry 
you  as  I  am,  on  my  poor  captain's  certificate  and 
nothing  else ;  and  then,  only  think,  if  I  followed  in 
a  few  months  with  a  few  thousand  of  my  own  be- 


68  DENIS    DENT 

hind  me !  You  may  say  I  ought  to  have  thought 
of  this  before.  But  I  did.  I  told  your  father  so  a 
few  minutes  before  the  wreck.  I  wanted  you  to 
wait  for  me — I  was  selfish  enough  for  that  from  the 
beginning ! " 

The  disparaging  epithet  pricked  Nan  to  interrupt 
him  and  take  it  on  herself.  But  Denis  persisted 
without  a  smile. 

"  Darling,  I  am  selfish  about  it  still ;  for  if  I  am 
not  worth  waiting  for,  I  am  not  worth  having  ;  but 
if  you  can  wait  only  a  few  months — not  a  day  more 
than  a  year — I  will  come  to  you  as  I  should  come 
if  it  is  to  be — but  come  I  will,  rich  or  poor,  if  I  am 
alive!  Nan,  darling,  I  have  everything  to  gain, 
only  these  few  months  to  lose ;  but  I  will  gain  all 
the  world  in  them.  I  will,  I  will,  I  will ! " 

She  could  not  but  be  infected  with  his  confidence, 
his  enthusiasm,  and  his  ideal.  There  in  the  dusk 
were  the  eager  Irish  eyes  glistening  and  burning 
into  hers,  but  there  also  was  the  strong  north- 
country  jaw  set  for  success  as  the  needle  to  the 
pole.  And  yet — and  yet — she  was  weeping  on  his 
shoulder  as  the  purple  turned  to  deepest  blue. 

"  I  could  have  helped  you,  dearest,"  came  her 
broken  whispers.  "  But  no,  not  here.  It 's  an 
awful  country.  It  will  break  my  heart  to  think  of 
you  in  it.  I  thought,  if  you  loved  me  .  .  . 
after  all  we  have  been  through  .  .  .  you  would 
never,  never  leave  me  again !  But,  dearest,  I  do 
believe  in  you,  and  I  will  wait,  for  you  know  best." 


DENIS    AND    NAN  69 

So  after  all  it  was  a  brave  face,  bright  as  her  will 
could  make  it,  though  still  wet  with  tears,  that  she 
held  away  from  him,  for  Denis  to  look  upon  it  for 
the  first  time  as  his  own.  But  it  was  a  very  terrible 
face  that  hovered  over  the  same  spot  but  a  minute 
later,  when  Ralph  Devenish  came  crashing  through 
the  young  pines  to  curse  the  very  ground  where 
they  had  stood,  and  the  sea  that  had  not  swallowed 
one  or  both. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
COLD  WATER 

THE  Merridews  sailed  for  England  about 
the  middle  of  October.     They  had  been 
less  than  a  fortnight  on  dry  land;  and  it 
was   with   a  heavy  and  uneasy  heart  that  Denis 
watched  their  new  vessel  to  a  speck  from  the  high- 
est point  commanding  Corio  Bay. 

With  all  his  candour,  there  were  one  or  two 
things  that  he  could  not  hide  from  himself,  but  that 
he  had  hidden  from  the  girl  to  whom  he  was  now 
engaged.  He  was  a  very  young  man.  He  loved 
adventure  for  its  own  sake,  and  though  he  had  been 
through  much,  he  felt  to  the  very  bone  that  he  was 
only  on  the  threshold  of  an  exciting  and  successful 
career.  There  could  scarcely  have  been  a  more 
sanguine  temperament,  or  a  character  with  more 
right  to  one.  But  the  young  man's  confidence  in 
himself  was  neither  blind  nor  overweening,  and  in 
his  heart  he  was  under  no  illusion  as  to  his  own 
motives.  It  grieved  his  soul  to  see  the  ship  sailing 
away  with  all  he  loved  on  earth,  yet  he  knew  how 
bitterly  he  would  have  felt  sailing  in  her,  with  never 
a  sight  of  Bendigo  or  of  Ballarat.  Then  he  was 
inordinately  independent.  It  was  in  the  blood.  He 


COLD    WATER  71 

must  make  his  own  way.  And  here  he  was  frank, 
yet  not  so  frank  as  to  tell  his  Nan  that  her  father 
had  definitely  offered  to  put  him  in  a  position  to 
make  his  way  quietly  at  home ;  and  the  father  was 
not  so  incontinent. 

A  little  incident  had  contributed  to  Denis's  de- 
pression ;  and  he  was  not  one  to  make  much  of 
little  incidents.  But  the  first  person  he  had  en- 
countered on  the  Memnon,  when  he  had  gone  on 
board  to  see  the  last  of  them,  was  another  survivor 
of  the  North  Foreland- — a  diseased  being  named 
Jewson,  who  had  shipped  in  her  as  chief  steward, 
only  to  be  disrated  for  an  incompetent  sot  before 
the  voyage  was  a  month  old.  The  disrating  had 
been  largely  due  to  the  second  officer,  who  did  not 
hesitate  to  ask  the  fellow  in  what  capacity  he  saw 
him  now. 

"  Captain  Devenish's  servant,"  was  the  answer, 
with  a  grin  that  maddened  Denis,  but  it  was  the 
fact  that  rankled.  He  had  said  no  more.  It  was 
too  late  ;  and  the  man  had  been  saved,  he  deserved 
a  fresh  start ;  but  that  Devenish,  of  all  people, 
should  give  him  one,  in  that  vessel  of  all  vessels  ! 
It  was  a  sign  of  more  than  Denis  had  time  to 
realize  until  Corio  Bay  lay  blue  and  bare  at  his  feet, 
and  the  tiny  sail  on  the  horizon  had  vanished  for- 
ever from  his  view. 

He  sat  in  the  sun  with  his  face  hidden  in  his 
hands.  His  heart  had  filled  with  prayer,  his  eyes 
with  tears ;  he  dug  his  knuckles  into  them,  and 


72  DENIS    DENT 

missed  the  bloodstone  signet-ring  that  he  had  worn 
since  his  father's  death.  There  had  been  no  time 
for  an  engagement  ring,  but  Nan  was  to  wear  this 
one  until  they  met  again.  And  she  had  given  him 
one  of  hers — a  ruby,  a  diamond,  and  a  sapphire — 
that  jammed  in  the  middle  of  his  little  finger  nail ; 
but  he  was  to  wear  it  day  and  night  about  his  neck 
instead,  on  a  tiny  lanyard  that  she  had  plaited  for 
it  out  of  her  own  warm  hair.  Denis  could  not  trust 
himself  to  look  at  it  yet ;  he  could  only  press  the 
ring  to  his  heart  until  it  hurt,  as  holy  sinners  press 
the  scapular,  but  that  was  enough  to  nerve  him. 
He  could  even  smile  as  he  remembered  the  absurd 
injunction  which  had  accompanied  this  sweet  talis- 
man. Still  smiling  he  looked  down  again  through 
the  sunshine  upon  the  empty  bay  ;  but  now  the  first 
thing  Denis  saw  was  a  separate  shadow  on  the 
grass. 

"  Cheer  up,  mister  !  All  board  !  It  "s  getting  on 
for  fifty  knots  to  Melbourne,  and  the  Lord  knows 
how  many  bells  !  " 

Jimmy  Doherty  was  standing  over  him,  and 
his  dark  skin  beamed  as  he  rolled  the  nautical 
phrases  on  his  tongue.  Denis  got  up  without  a  smile. 

"  Do  n't  remind  me  of  the  sea,  Jimmy  ;  help  me 
to  forget  about  it.  And  as  for  Melbourne,  we  shall 
never  see  it  to-night." 

"  Sha'  n't  we  though  !  " 

"  What !  Fifty  miles  between  midday  and  mid- 
night ?  " 


COLD    WATER  73 

"  It 's  not  so  much,  and  I  've  got  us  a  lift  half- 
way." 

"  But  we  can't  afford  that,  Jimmy." 

A  shifty  grin  from  Doherty  betrayed  a  sort  of 
guilty  pride  in  his  arrangements. 

"  I  Ve  got  it  for  love,  mister,  from  a  hawker  as 
only  wishes  he  was  a-goin'  all  the  way,  for  the 
honour  and  glory  o'  carryin'  a  gent  that's  done 
what  you  've  done  and  got  himself  in  all  the  pa- 
pers." 

Denis  was  divided  between  natural  satisfaction  and 
annoyance. 

"  Very  well,  Jimmy,  and  I  congratulate  you ;  but, 
once  and  for  all,  never  another  word  about  that  un- 
less you  're  asked  !  We  're  mates  now,  remember  ; 
I  might  as  well  brag  of  it  myself.  Besides — but 
it 's  a  bargain,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

Mr.  Doherty  said  he  supposed  it  must  be  ;  but 
for  once  his  spirit  was  under  a  cloud,  for  he  had  ap- 
pointed himself  sole  minstrel  of  his  hero's  praises, 
foreseeing  both  honour  and  profit  in  the  employ- 
ment; but  on  reflection  the  embargo  only  made 
him  think  the  more  of  Denis,  and  his  first  care  was 
to  whisper  it  in  the  hawker's  ear. 

The  hawker  was  waiting  with  his  wagon  outside 
an  inn  in  Moorabool  Street,  and  Denis  was  relieved 
to  find  the  man  less  palpably  impressed  by  his  ex- 
ploit than  Jimmy  had  represented  him.  He  was  a 
little  flint  of  a  fellow,  sharp  but  surly,  who  accepted 
an  eight-penny  glass  of  porter  with  a  nod  and 


74  DENIS    DENT 

drained  it  without  removing  his  eyes  from  the 
sailor's  face.  But  in  a  mile  or  so  his  tongue  loos- 
ened, as  the  trio  sat  abreast  under  the  wagon's 
hood,  and  the  scattered  buildings  of  the  budding 
town  melted  into  the  unbroken  timber  of  the  bush 
track. 

"  So  you  're  bound  for  the  diggings,  are  you  ?  " 
said  the  hawker.  "  And  what  may  you  think  of 
doing  when  you  get  there  ?  " 

"Well,"  said  Denis,  to  enter  into  the  man's  hu- 
mour, "  we  did  think  we  might  dig." 

"  Oh,  dig !  "  said  the  hawker,  and  relapsed  at  once 
into  his  former  taciturnity. 

"  What  would  you  do,  then  ?  "  inquired  Denis, 
nudging  Doherty,  who,  though  he  had  plenty  to  say 
when  they  were  alone,  was  a  respectful  listener  be- 
fore a  third  person. 

"  Bake  ! "  said  the  hawker,  without  a  moment's 
hesitation. 

"  Bake  ?  "  echoed  Denis  in  amused  dismay. 

"  It 's  four-and-six  the  half-loaf  at  this  moment," 
said  the  hawker.  "  Same  price  as  a  quarter  of  sheep. 
On  the  diggings,  that  is.  Yes,  sir,  I  'd  bake,  that 's 
what  I  'd  do,  if  I  had  my  time  over  again,  and  capi- 
tal enough  to  make  a  start." 

"  And  if  you  had  n't  enough  ?  " 

"If  I  hadn't  enough,  and  if  they  were  full- 
handed  in  all  the  publics,  and  I  could  n't  get  a  job  in 
any  o'  the  stores,  and  the  Commissioner  would  n't 
give  me  one,  and  if  I  could  borrow  a  license,  beg 


COLD    WATER  75 

some  tools,  and  steal  enough  to  eat,  well,  I  might 
have  another  dig  myself.  But  not  till  I  'd  tried 
everything  else.  You  've  heard  what  they  got  in 
Canadian  Gully,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  have,"  said  Denis. 

"  So  had  I,"  said  the  hawker. 

"  And  what  did  you  get  ?  " 

"  Not  enough  to  eat  bread  on ;  not  one  in  a 
thousand  does.  But  you  go  and  have  your  try. 
You  may  have  a  bit  of  luck  in  the  end,  and  manage 
to  bring  your  bones  away  with  the  flesh  on  'em, 
like  me.  That 's  the  most  I  can  wish  you,  and 
it 's  hoping  for  the  best.  But  you  take  my  advice, 
and  when  the  luck  turns,  never  wait  for  it  to  turn 
again.  You  get  rid  of  your  claim  for  what  it'll 
fetch ;  mine  fetched  what  you  see — a  hawker's 
wagon,  horses,  and  whole  stock-in-trade.  I  just 
jumped  in  and  drove  away,  and  he  jumped  into 
my  claim.  And  I  will  say  I  'm  doing  better  at  this 
game  than  I  was  at  that." 

"  And  how  is  he  doing  ?  " 

"  I  do  n't  know,"  said  the  hawker,  "  and  I  do  n't 
care." 

"  Prices  must  be  good,"  remarked  Denis. 

"  Among  the  middlings,"  said  the  hawker  with  a 
sidelong  glance  at  Doherty,  who,  however,  was 
looking  the  other  way.  "  I  can  let  you  have  a  nice 
pair  o'  boots  for  a  five-pound-note,  and  a  spare  shirt 
like  what  you've  got  on  for  thirty  bob.  But 
it 's  not  what  it  was  when  I  came  out  last  year.  I 


76  DENIS    DENT 

would  n't  come  into  the  hawking  business  if  I  were 
you;  you  could  get  twenty-five  bob  a  day  as  a 
carpenter,  and  three-pound-ten  to  four  pound  a 
week  at  bullock-driving.  But  I  'd  rather  be  a  la- 
bourer on  the  roads,  with  two  crown  certain  a  day, 
and  wood,  water,  and  tent  supplied,  than  peg  out 
another  claim." 

Denis  had  heard  enough.  He  was  not  easily  dis- 
couraged, but  he  found  it  a  relief  to  turn  his  attention 
to  the  scenery.  They  were  intersecting  a  forest  of 
rather  stunted  trees,  all  blown  one  way  by  the  wind, 
which  made  music  of  a  peculiar  melancholy  among 
their  branches.  Doherty  said  the  trees  were  she- 
oaks,  answering  Denis's  question  with  great  zeal. 
Similarly  Denis  learned  the  names  of  the  various 
parrots  that  perched  by  the  flock  amid  the  dull 
green  foliage,  or  fled  from  tree  to  tree  with  a  whirr 
and  a  glint  of  every  colour  in  the  rainbow.  Then 
a  pond  must  be  called  a  water-hole,  it  seemed — a 
beck  a  creek,  and  the  curly-bearded  aboriginals 
blacks  or  blackfellows — but  not  niggers.  It  was  the 
earliest  and  most  elementary  stage  of  Denis's  colo- 
nial training,  and  he  would  have  relished  it  if  only 
for  his  mentor's  intense  satisfaction  in  his  task,  to 
say  nothing  of  a  capacity  to  teach  not  inferior  to 
the  will.  But  the  hawker  had  a  last  word  left, 
which  he  kept,  as  though  by  demoniac  design,  for 
one  of  their  glimpses,  depressing  enough  to  Denis 
as  it  was,  of  the  sparkling  sea  never  many  miles 
distant  on  their  right. 


COLD    WATER  77 

"  Ah !  "  said  the  hawker,  pointing  with  his  whip, 
"  if  I  'd  been  one  hour  earlier  in  Geelong,  I  'd  have 
sold  lock,  stock,  barrel  an'  ammunition  for  a  berth  in 
that  ship  that  cleared  out  for  Old  England  this 
forenoon.  Ship  from  Melbourne  you  can  't  get.  It 
was  a  chance  in  a  hundred,  and  I  'd  have  given  all 
I  have  for  it,  as  you  will  for  such  another  before 
you  've  seen  half  as  much  as  me." 

It  was  about  three  in  the  afternoon,  at  a  place 
called  Wyndham,  that  the  pair  took  their  leave  of 
this  dispassionate  pessimist,  with  as  little  regret  as 
may  be  supposed,  and  found  themselves  afoot  for 
the  last  twenty  miles.  And  almost  from  the  first 
step  Doherty  was  loud  in  his  denunciation  of  every 
word  the  hawker  had  uttered,  not  one  of  which  was 
Denis  to  believe  for  an  instant.  But  there  was  no 
Denis  left  to  embrace  this  view ;  the  leave-taking  of 
the  morning  and  the  hawker  in  the  afternoon  had 
reduced  him  between  them  to  unmitigated  Dent,  a 
dogged  fellow  ready  for  the  worst,  though  more 
than  ever  bent  upon  the  best. 

"  There  are  two  sides  to  everything,  and  give  me 
the  dark  side  first,"  said  he ;  "  besides,  a  lift  for 
nothing  is  a  lift  for  nothing.  But  what's  that 
you  Ve  got  in  your  pack,  Jim  ?  " 

"  What 's  what  ?  "  asked  Doherty,  changing  col- 
our as  he  trudged. 

"  There 's  a  box  of  some  sort  showing  through 
your  outer  blanket." 

"  Oh,  that 's  my  revolver." 


78  DENIS    DENT 

"  Your  revolver  !  You  had  n't  one  this  morning. 
Who 's  given  it  to  you  ?  "  demanded  Denis. 

"  No  one,"  the  boy  confessed.  "  I  bought  it 
from  the  hawker  while  you  were  on  the  ship." 

"  And  how  much  did  you  give  for  this  ?  "  asked 
Denis,  as  they  squatted  by  the  roadside,  with  a  neat 
oak  case  open  between  them,  and  a  great  five- 
chambered  Deane  and  Adams  twinkling  in  the  sun. 

"  Ten  guineas,  mister." 

"  Ten  guineas  !  More  than  half  the  wages  you 
drew  from  the  station,  for  a  second-hand  revolver  ? 
He  did  n't  say  it  was  first-hand,  did  he  ?  " 

"  No,  but  he  said  it  was  worth  more." 

Denis  sprang  impatiently  to  his  feet. 

"  Well,  it  may  save  our  lives,  and  then  it  will  be," 
said  he.  "  But  I  like  your  notion  of  a  lift  for  love ! " 


CHAPTER  IX 
THE  CANVAS  CITY 

THE  travelers  had  been  variously  advised  as 
to  their  best  road  to  Melbourne  from  a  cer- 
tain point ;  but  what  they  did  (by  pure  ac- 
cident) was  to  come  out  on  the  Williamstown 
promontory  and  get  a  second  lift  (by  sheer  luck)  in 
a  boat  just  leaving  for  the  Sandridge  side.  They 
were  even  luckier  than  they  knew.  The  gain  in 
mileage  was  very  considerable.  And  there  was  sun 
enough  still  upon  the  waters  for  them  to  see  with 
their  own  eyes  the  derelict  sail  of  all  nations  and  of 
every  rig,  swinging  forlornly  with  the  turning  tide, 
their  blistered  timbers  cracking  for  some  paint,  and 
all  hands  at  the  diggings. 

But  the  sun  was  sinking  when  the  two  friends 
landed  at  Liardet's  Jetty,  and  came  at  once  by  the 
Sandridge  Road  to  the  first  thin  sprinkling  of  the 
tents  which  formed  the  Melbourne  of  those  days. 
The  track  ran  in  ruts  through  sand  and  dust  as  fine 
as  tooth-powder ;  they  trudged  beside  it  over  scanty 
grass,  with  here  and  there  a  star-shaped  flower  with- 
out the  slightest  scent.  Gum-trees  of  many  kinds, 
some  with  the  white  bark  peeling  from  their  trunks, 
others  smooth  and  leafless  as  gigantic  bones,  made 


8o  DENIS    DENT 

amends  with  their  peculiar  aroma.  There  was  a 
shrill  twittering  of  the  most  unmusical  birds,  the 
croak  of  bullfrogs  from  a  neighbouring  lagoon,  a 
more  familiar  buzz  of  flies,  a  tinfoil  rustle  of  brown 
grass  at  every  step.  Once  the  grass  rustled  before 
Denis's  foot  came  down,  and  in  a  second  he  had 
stamped  the  life  out  of  his  first  snake — a  long  black 
fellow  with  a  white  waistcoat  and  pink  stripes. 
Doherty  held  it  up  in  horror. 

"  That 's  not  the  way  to  kill  a  snake,"  said  he. 
"  Jump  out  of  the  road  if  you  have  n't  a  stick.  It 's 
lucky  for  you  that  you  came  down  on  his  right  end, 
or  he  'd  have  been  up  your  leg  like  a  lamplighter, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  you  'd  'a'  been  as  stiff  as  him. 
Poisonous  ?  I  believe  you,  mister !  You  thank 
your  stars,  and  do  n't  do  it  again." 

And  Denis  went  on  with  a  cold  coating  to  an 
active  skin,  but  without  a  syllable  until  Doherty 
drew  his  attention  to  a  marquee  under  the  trees, 
with  a  brass  plate  stitched  to  the  canvas  ;  and  when 
they  got  near  enough  to  read  the  legend  it  was 
ESTABLISHMENT  FOR  YOUNG  LADIES, 
in  tremendous  capitals ;  there  was  even  a  black- 
board nailed  to  a  blue  gum,  with  benches  fixed  to 
stumps,  and  every  accessory  but  the  young  ladies 
themselves.  Denis  was  prepared  to  meet  them  two- 
and-two  in  the  next  glade,  but  the  multiplication 
of  tents  soon  put  this  one  out  of  his  head,  and  their 
infinite  variety  became  apparent  as  they  drew  to- 
gether into  streets.  There  were  canvas  cones,  can- 


THE    CANVAS    CITY         81 

vas  polygons,  canvas  in  every  figure  defined  by 
Euclid  and  in  more  that  baffle  definition.  A  cricket 
tent  had  a  publican's  sign  swinging  from  an  over- 
hanging branch.  A  red  lamp  surmounted  the 
nearer  of  two  uprights  which  carried  a  pole  with 
a  sheet  stretched  across  it ;  the  doctor  crawled  out 
of  this  his  surgery,  and  lit  up  with  a  brawny  arm, 
as  the  travelers  passed.  Denis  thought  it  still  quite 
light,  but  when  they  came  to  the  first  bricks  and 
mortar,  as  it  seemed  but  a  few  yards  further,  there 
was  just  enough  rose  in  the  dusk  for  good  eyes  to 
glean  from  the  notice-board  in  front  of  the  house 
that  its  three  rooms  and  its  strip  of  yard  were  to 
let  at  .£400.  And  in  another  minute  it  was  night. 

An  unpleasant  feature  of  these  canvas  streets  was 
that  slops  and  refuse  were  hurled  into  the  middle  of 
them,  while  cast-off  clothing  literally  lined  the  sides  ; 
but  as  a  light  twinkled  at  one  tent,  and  a  fire  blazed 
up  outside  the  next,  the  picturesque  contrasts 
afforded  by  the  firelit  faces,  the  inconceivable  jum- 
ble of  grades  and  races,  blinded  Denis  to  all  else. 
Now  it  was  a  drayman  with  a  single  eye-glass,  now 
a  gentle  face  at  the  wash-tub  and  a  diamond  flash- 
ing through  the  suds.  The  peoples  might  have 
been  shot  by  the  shovelful  from  their  respective 
soils ;  yellow  Yankee,  gross  German,  suspicious 
Spaniard,  sunny  Italian,  burly  Dane  and  murderous 
Malay,  there  they  all  were,  so  many  separate  in- 
gredients newly  flung  into  the  pot.  A  noticeable 
link  was  the  hook-nosed  Jew  who  spoke  every  Ian- 


82  DENIS    DENT 

guage  and  hailed  from  every  clime.  And  either 
there  were  more  Chinamen  even  than  Europeans, 
or  their  blue  breeches  and  their  beehive  hats 
brought  them  oftener  to  the  eye.  But  the  usually 
drunken  blackfellow  and  his  invariably  degenerate 
gin  were  already  becoming  scarce  in  their  own  land. 

Denis  and  Jim  drifted  with  this  cosmopolitan 
crowd  across  a  bridge,  into  a  region  of  fewer  tents, 
better  lights,  more  weather-board  walls,  and  not  a 
few  of  bricks  and  mortar.  A  veranda  where  a 
free  fight  was  raging  turned  out  to  be  that  of  the 
General  Post  Office;  the  flag  flying  over  it  cele- 
brated the  arrival  of  an  English  mail,  and  it  was  for 
their  letters  that  the  poor  folk  fought.  One  shook 
himself  clear  with  his  letter  in  his  hand,  and  an  in- 
describable look  of  happiness  on  his  face,  as  Denis 
looked  on  enviously.  In  an  innkeeper's  yard  hard 
by,  the  horses  of  a  bullock-team  scratched  the 
panels  of  a  resplendent  brougham ;  and  though 
this  was  evidently  the  fashionable  quarter,  judging 
by  the  numbers  of  regular  shops,  the  gutters  were 
swollen  to  such  rivers  that  in  places  drays  acted  as 
ferry-boats  across  them.  In  some  of  the  shop  win- 
dows the  things  were  marked  VERY  DEAR  to  tempt 
the  plutocratic  plebeian  ;  but  in  nearly  all  there  was 
a  legend  which  went  to  one  head  at  least — the 
legend  of  GOLD  BOUGHT  IN  ANY  QUANTITY. 

"  There  must  be  plenty  going  after  all,"  said 
Denis,  "  or  you  would  n't  see  that  at  every  turn." 

Doherty  agreed  without  enthusiasm  ;  it  was  what 


THE    CANVAS    CITY         83 

he  had  always  held ;  but  the  surface  excitement  of 
his  years  was  not  proof  against  a  ravenous  appetite, 
whereas  Denis  could  have  gone  on  and  on  without 
a  bite.  Yet  they  were  really  in  search  of  modest 
fare,  and  were  actually  reconnoitring  a  large  and 
flaring  shanty,  which  rather  chilled  the  frugal  blood 
in  Denis,  when  a  choice  harangue  was  poured  into 
them  from  the  veranda ;  and  there  sat  a  gorilla  of 
a  man,  his  shirt  half-hidden  by  his  beard,  dipping  a 
pannikin  in  a  bucket  between  his  knees,  and  spilling 
the  contents  as  he  waved  it  to  the  pair. 

"  Come  in,  ye  cripples  ! "  roared  he.  "  Come  and 
have  a  pannikin  o'  champagne  with  ole  Bullocky, 
or  by  the  hokey  you  '11  be  stretched  out  stiff!  " 

And  with  that  the  true  gorilla  fell  to  pelting  them 
with  the  empty  champagne  bottles  that  surrounded 
him,  until  Denis  cried  a  truce  and  led  the  way  in, 
laughing,  under  a  storm  of  drunken  banter  from 
the  successful  digger  and  his  friends. 

"  A  new  chum,  I  see ! "  said  Bullocky,  rolling  an 
unsteady  eye  over  Denis  when  he  had  handed  him 
the  pannikin.  "  Another  blessed  '  Jack  ashore,'  by 
the  cut  of  ye;  deserting  orf'cer,  I  shouldn't  won- 
der !  All  the  more  reason  listen  me :  none  of  your 
damn  quarter-deck  airs  here,  you  know.  There 
ain't  no  blessed  orf'cers  aboard  this  little  craft. 
We  're  all  in  the  cuddy  or  afore  the  mast — w'ich 
you  please — so  you  can  just  sweat  all  the  notions 
you  ever  had.  And  if  you  do  n't  empty  that  there 
pannikin  down  your  own  gullet " 


84  DENIS    DENT 

A  huge  fist  finished  the  sentence  with  a  terrify- 
ing shake,  as  Denis  was  in  the  act  of  handing  the 
tin  mug  to  the  open-mouthed  Doherty. 

"  We  have  n't  had  our  supper  yet,"  he  explained. 
"  It 's  dangerous  stuff  on  empty  stomachs." 

"  Not  had  your  suppers  ?  "  thundered  Bullocky  ; 
a  lurch  took  him  to  the  tap -room  door,  where  he 
gave  the  order  in  a  roar.  "  Now  you  drink  up," 
he  went  on,  with  ferocious  hospitality,  as  another 
lurch  brought  him  back.  "  It  cost  five  pounds  a 
bottle,  and  if  it  ain't  good  enough  for  scum  like 
you,  I  '11  stretch  the  two  of  ye  stiff  till  your  grub  's 
ready." 

And  the  genial  brute  bellowed  with  laughter  un- 
til the  veranda  shook,  and  flinging  off  a  wideawake 
garnished  with  an  ostrich  feather,  stuck  his  great 
head  into  the  bucket  of  champagne  and  drank  like 
his  betters  of  the  field.  As  a  result,  Denis  and  Jim 
had  their  meal  in  peace,  for  it  was  but  lukewarm 
mutton  and  sodden  duff,  and  while  they  ate,  one  of 
his  friends  informed  them  that  "  Bullocky  "  was  the 
short  for  Bullock  Creek,  Bendigo,  of  which  the 
great  man  was  patron  sinner,  having  made  several 
fortunes  there  that  year,  and  spent  them  in  the  way 
they  saw.  "  Which  is  n't  so  bad,"  added  his  friend, 
who  did  discredit  to  a  better  class,  "  for  a  gentleman 
from  over  the  way." 

Denis  asked  him  what  he  meant. 

"An  old  hand  from  Van  Diemen's  Land,"  the 
man  answered  in  a  despicable  undertone.  And 


THE    CANVAS    CITY          85 

Denis  felt  inclined  to  tell  the  old  hand,  who  now 
returned  to  crown  his  hospitality  by  forcing  a  nug- 
get apiece  upon  the  two  beginners. 

"  But  it  must  be  worth  fifty  pounds  !  "  exclaimed 
Denis,  in  vain  protest,  as  he  handled  his. 

"  Fifty  smacks  in  the  mouth ! "  thundered  Bul- 
locky  preparing  to  administer  them.  "  You  ain't  on 
your  dam'  quarter-deck  now  !  " 

"  Very  well,"  said  Denis,  "  we  '11  keep  them  for 
luck,  rather  than  come  to  blows  about  it ;  and  we 
really  must  thank  you " 

"  You  dare  !  "  interrupted  Bullocky,  with  another 
flourish  of  his  hairy  fist.  "  It's  no  more'n  wot  I'd 
do  for  any  other  scum  with  all  their  troubles  ahead 
on  'em.  I  ain't  got  no  troubles  fore  nor  aft ;  I  'm 
Lord  God  o'  Bullock  Creek,  I  am,  and  I  ain't  done 
with  you  yet ;  you  come  along  o'  me." 

So  saying,  he  led  the  way  toward  certain  sounds 
of  revelry  which  had  begun  to  fill  the  lulls  between 
his  detonations.  And  in  a  marquee  crowded  with 
diggers,  and  reeking  with  the  fumes  from  pipe  and 
pot,  the  trio  were  in  time  for  the  last  lines  of  a  song 
from  a  buffoon  on  the  platform  at  one  end : 

"  And  when  you  think  it 's  all  serene  — 
Pop  goes  the  weasel !  " 

It  was  the  latest  song  from  England,  and  was 
vociferously  encored ;  but  not  for  the  first  time,  it 
seemed,  and  the  mountebank  would  only  bow  and 
scrape.  In  an  instant  the  rank  air  was  yellow  with 


86  DENIS    DENT 

flying  orange-peel.  But  Bullocky  handed  Jim  a 
nugget  to  throw  for  him,  which  Mr.  Doherty  dis- 
charged with  such  effect  that  it  hit  the  performer 
on  one  leg  and  sent  him  hopping  round  the  stage 
on  the  other,  until  the  nature  of  the  projectile  was 
discovered,  and  the  song  given  yet  again.  At  its 
close  the  plutocrat's  party  were  accorded  a  table  in 
front,  and  more  drink  ordered  to  Denis's  embar- 
rassment. "  Careful,  Jimmy,"  he  contrived  to  whis- 
per, and  received  a  reassuring  kick  under  the  table 
by  way  of  reply. 

A  poor  painted  girl,  with  a  voice  that  had  some 
little  sweetness  left,  and  a  pathos  all  its  own,  came 
next  with  a  song  just  old  enough  to  have  associa- 
tions for  some  of  those  who  heard.  It  was,  how- 
ever, a  sweet  song  in  itself,  and  in  a  few  bars  a  hush 
had  fallen  on  the  audience  ;  even  Bullocky  sat  back 
in  his  chair,  his  huge  beard  leveled  at  the  singer. 

"  You  are  going  far  away,  far  away  from  poor  Jeannette ; 
There  's  no  one  left  to  love  me  now,  and  you  too  will  forget ; 
But  my  heart  will  be  with  you  wherever  you  may  go  — 
Can  you  look  me  in  the  face  and  say  the  same,  Jeannot  ? 
When  you  wear  the  jacket  red,  and  the  beautiful  cockade, 
Oh !  I  fear  you  will  forget  all  the  promises  you  made. 
With  a  gun  upon  your  shoulder  and  a  bayonet  by  your  side, 
You  '11  be  taking  some  proud  lady  and  be  making  her  your  bride  — 
You'll  be   taking  some  proud  lady  and   be   making  her  your 
bride  ! " 

So  it  ran  ;  and  Denis  caught  himself  pressing  his 
dear  new  amulet  to  his  heart.  He  was  so  saddened 


THE    CANVAS    CITY         87 

that  he  did  not  see  Bullocky  until  he  heard  him 
roar,  "  No,  he  won't,  my  dear !  I  '11  stretch  him  stiff 
and  stark  if  he  do ! "  at  which  one  behind  gave  a 
laugh,  and  so  brought  that  formidable  fist  within  an 
inch  of  his  nose,  while  with  the  other  paw  the 
gorilla  dashed  away  a  tear  that  ought  to  have  filled 
a  wineglass.  Denis  lost  half  the  next  verse  in 
watching  him.  Bullocky  was  now  sprawling  across 
the  table,  his  great  face  hidden  in  the  hirsute  folds 
of  his  powerful  arms. 

"  Oh  !  if  I  were  King  of  France,  or  still  better  Pope  of  Rome, 
I  'd  have  no  fighting  men  abroad,  no  weeping  maids  at  home. 
All  the  world  should  be  at  peace,  or,  if  kings  must  show  their 

might, 

Why,  let  them  who  make  the  quarrel  be  the  only  ones  to  fight  — 
Yei,  let  them  who  make  the  quarrel  be  the  only  ones  to  fight !  " 

Bullocky's  shoulders  were  heaving  with  vinous 
sobs.  He  did  not  join  in  the  tempest  of  applause, 
and  before  the  last  verse  had  been  repeated  his 
emotions  reached  their  anti-climax  in  a  sounding 
snore.  Denis  gave  Doherty  a  nod,  and  they  de- 
serted under  cover  of  the  final  furore. 

Near  the  exit  of  the  marquee  a  degenerate  sailor 
reeled  into  them  ;  and  it  shocked  Denis  slowly  to 
identify  the  blurred  features  of  his  late  shipmate, 
the  chief  officer  of  the  North  Foreland.  It  was  but 
a  week  since  he  had  given  evidence  as  clear  as  it 
was  creditable  at  the  inquest  in  Mr.  Kitto's  wool- 
shed. 


88  DENIS    DENT 

"  Seen  you  come  in,"  said  the  mate.  "  Thought 
you  was  in  blue  water  by  this  time." 

"  How  so  ?  "  asked  Denis. 

"  Homeward  bound,"  hiccoughed  the  mate. 

"  I  'm  not  going  home  yet,"  said  Denis.  "  I  'm 
going  to  try  my  luck  on  the  diggings  first." 

The  chief  swayed  incredulous.  "  Thought  that 
was  all  plain  sailin'  ?  "  said  he.  "  Thought  you  was 
to  go  home  with  'em,  an'  marry  her  at  t'  other  end 
if  not  at  this  ?  Well,  well,  you  might  just  as  well 
have  taken  my  advice  !  " 

"  What  advice  ?  "  asked  Denis,  coldly. 

"  It  was  just  as  you  was  swep'  overboard,"  ex- 
plained the  mate.  "  You  did  n't  hear  it ;  and  if  you 
had  it  would  n't  've  been  no  use  without  the  boat ; 
but  I  was  goin'  to  tell  you  to  stand  out  to  sea  like  I 
did ;  and  you  might  as  well,  do  n't  you  see  ?  Drawn 
your  pay  at  the  agent's  yet  ?  "  he  added  as  Denis 
was  turning  away. 

"  Not  yet ;  that 's  what  I  Ve  come  for ;  but  I  only 
got  here  to-night." 

"  Ah,"  said  the  chief,  "  I  have !  I  wish  I  was 
you ! "  And  Denis  left  him  with  the  tears  in  his 
eyes. 

Outside  the  marquee  a  crowd  had  collected,  and 
with  reason,  for  in  the  centre  stood  a  blacksmith 
with  a  shod  horse  whose  four  hoofs  he  was  display- 
ing in  turn ;  and  it  was  shod  with  pure  gold,  which 
he  rubbed  with  a  leather  until  the  horseshoes  shone 
again  in  the  glare  of  the  naked  flame  that  lit  the 


THE    CANVAS    CITY          89 

entrance  to  the  booth.  Denis  knew  it  must  be 
Bullocky's  steed,  and  they  had  not  to  ask  a  ques- 
tion to  gather  that  it  was. 

"  How  about  the  dark  side  now  ? "  whispered 
Doherty,  slipping  an  arm  through  his  hero's  as  they 
walked  away. 


CHAPTER  X 
THIEVES  IN  THE  NIGHT 

WHERE  they  were  to  sleep  was  now  the 
question.  Doherty,  who  had  still  some 
sovereigns  in  his  pocket,  was  strongly  in 
favour  of  good  beds  at  any  reasonable  price  ;  but 
this  did  not  commend  itself  to  the  son  of  the  dales, 
whose  hard  head  was  always  less  sanguine  for  the 
day  than  for  the  far  event.  Dent  was  to  draw  his 
due  next  day  ;  he  was  not  very  certain  how  much 
there  would  be  to  draw.  He  had  assured  Mr.  Mer- 
ridew  that  he  had  plenty  of  money,  when  he  was 
really  at  his  last  gold  piece.  The  squatter,  on  the 
other  hand,  had  insisted  on  giving  each  adventurer 
a  pair  of  blankets  with  his  blessing ;  with  these  in 
tight  rolls  about  their  shoulders,  they  had  made 
their  march  ;  and  Denis  now  announced  his  inten- 
tion of  sleeping  under  a  tree  in  his  as  soon  as  he 
had  found  the  bed  for  Doherty.  Their  first  quarrel 
nearly  ensued.  The  boy  had  to  shed  a  tear  before 
Denis  would  hear  of  anything  different ;  and  then 
they  had  to  find  their  tree. 

After  a  fright  from  a  spurred  police  cadet  with 
drawn  sabre,  who  threatened  the  pair  with  a  five- 
pound  fine  apiece  for  attempting  their  ablutions  in 


THIEVES    IN    THE    NIGHT  91 

the  Yarra,  back  they  went  across  the  river  to  the 
chartered  squalors  of  Canvas  Town ;  but  instead 
of  keeping  as  before  to  the  main  streets  of  tents, 
struck  off  at  a  tangent  for  the  nearest  open  country. 
And  this  led  them  through  worse  places  still ;  now 
wading  knee-deep  in  baleful  filth,  and  now  through 
its  moral  equivalent  in  the  most  rampant  and  re- 
pulsive form.  In  these  few  dark  minutes  they  saw 
much  misery,  more  selfishness,  and  very  little  de- 
cency indeed.  Jim  slipped  his  hand  through  Denis's 
arm  with  a  timidity  that  spoke  volumes  in  his  case ; 
and  Denis  drew  his  deepest  breath  that  day  when 
the  lights  lay  all  behind  them,  save  a  single  camp- 
fire  far  ahead  in  the  bush. 

Dent  and  Doherty  were  wandering  toward  this 
light,  neither  actually  intending  to  go  so  far,  nor 
yet  knowing  quite  how  far  they  would  go,  when  a 
mild  voice  hailed  them  from  under  just  such  a  tree 
as  should  have  met  their  needs. 

"  I  say,"  it  said,  "  you  fellows  ! " 

"  Hullo  ?  "  cried  Denis,  stopping  in  his  stride. 

"  Steady  !  "  returned  the  voice  in  an  amused  un- 
dertone. "  Mum  's  the  word — if  you  do  n't  mind 
coming  nearer." 

The  pair  stole  up  to  the  tree.  A  slight  young 
man  stood  against  the  trunk  in  the  shaded  star- 
light; it  was  his  voice  that  conveyed  his  youth; 
they  could  barely  see  him  at  arm's  length. 

"  Thanks  awfully,"  he  went  on.  "  I  have  no  idea 
who  you  are,  but  I  should  like  awfully  to  shake 


92  DENIS    DENT 

hands  with  you  ;  unfortunately,  I  have  n't  a  hand 
at  liberty — feel." 

What  Denis  felt  was  a  coil  of  rope,  and  an- 
other, and  another,  as  he  ran  his  hand  up  and 
down. 

"  Tied  up  !  "  he  whispered. 

"  And  robbed,"  added  the  complacent  young 
man. 

"  Of  much?  "  asked  Denis,  getting  out  his  knife. 

"  Only  the  result  of  five  months'  hard  labour  on 
Bendigo  ;  only  my  little  all,"  the  young  man  mur- 
mured with  a  placid  sigh.  "  But  it  might  be  worse : 
they  sometimes  truss  you  up  with  all  your  weight 
on  your  neck,  and  then  you  can't  make  yourself 
heard  if  you  try.  Is  n't  there  a  fire  somewhere  be- 
hind me  ?  " 

"  A  good  way  off  there  is." 

"  It 's  not  so  far  as  you  think.  I  heard  them 
light  it.  But  it  would  be  just  as  well  not  to  let 
them  hear  us." 

"  Why  should  n't  they  ? "  asked  Denis,  as  he 
worked  a  flat  blade  between  the  young  man's  mid- 
dle and  the  rope ;  whereupon  Doherty  put  in  his 
first  word  in  an  excited  whisper. 

"  Do  n't  you  savvy  ?  They  're  the  blokes  what 
done  it,  mister  !  " 

"  Exactly,"  said  the  mild  young  man.  "  And 
that 's  about  all  I  know  of  them,  though  I  've  been 
in  their*  company  all  day.  But  my  name  is  Mose- 
ley ;  you  might  make  a  note  of  it,  in  case  anything 


THIEVES    IN    THE    NIGHT  93 

happens.  My  father 's  Rector  of  Much  Wymond- 
ham,  in  Silly  Suffolk — as  you  might  expect  from 
his  imbecile  son." 

"  I  do  n't  see  where  the  imbecility  comes  in, 
much  less  what  can  happen  now,"  said  Denis,  en- 
couragingly ;  as  he  spoke,  he  loosened  the  severed 
coil,  and  the  late  captive  stumbled  stiffly  into  the 
open. 

"  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  own  it,"  he  went  on 
in  whispers,  squatting  in  the  grass  to  bend  his  limbs 
in  turn,  "  but  I  met  these  chaps  on  the  way  into 
town — with  my  poor  little  pile,  heigho  ! — and  took 
them  for  father  and  son,  as  they  professed  to  be.  I 
thanked  Providence  for  putting  me  in  such  re- 
spectable hands,  and  stuck  to  them  like  a  leech 
till  they  lured  me  out  here  to  camp  with  the  result 
you  found.  As  for  nothing  happening  now,  they 
swore  they  'd  murder  me  if  I  uttered  a  sound ; 
they  Ve  camped  within  earshot  to  be  handy  for  the 
job ;  and  I  give  them  leave  to  do  it,  if  I  do  n't  get 
even  with  them  now." 

Doherty  rubbed  his  hands  in  glee ;  but  Denis  was 
quite  unprepared  for  this  spirited  resolution,  voiced 
as  it  was  in  the  spiritless  tone  which  distinguished 
the  other  young  man ;  and  he  asked  Moseley  whether 
he  was  armed. 

"  I  should  be,"  was  the  reply,  "  but  they  took  my 
pistol  with  my  pile,  confound  them." 

"  Then  how  on  earth  do  you  propose  to  get  even 
with  them  ?  " 


94  DENIS    DENT 

"  Oh,  I  may  wait  till  the  blackguards  are  asleep ; 
I  shall  steal  a  squint  on  them  presently,  and  then 
decide.  But  do  n't  you  fellows  bother  to  stay.  I  'm 
awfully  obliged  to  you  as  it  is." 

It  did  not  require  this  generous  (and  evidently 
genuine)  discharge  to  retain  their  services  to  the 
death.  In  Denis  the  Celt  had  long  been  uppermost, 
and,  like  Doherty,he  was  in  a  glow  for  the  glowing 
work.  Apart  from  that,  Denis  was  rather  fascinated 
by  the  rueful  humour  and  the  chuckle-headed 
courage  of  a  temperament  at  once  opposite  and  con- 
genial to  his  own. 

"  Either  we  stand  by  you,  Moseley,"  he  muttered, 
"  or  we  all  three  run  for  it ;  and  I  '11  be  shot  if  we 
do  that  just  yet !  Luckily,  one  of  us  can  supply  the 
firearm,  and  the  other  can  use  it  if  the  worst  comes 
to  the  worst." 

Doherty  was  already  at  his  pack.  The  polished 
oak  case  shone  in  the  starlight  like  a  tiny  tank,  until 
the  lid  stood  open  and  its  contents  gave  a  fitful  glit- 
ter. Wadded  bullets,  percussion  caps  and  a  pow- 
der-horn had  baize-lined  compartments  to  them- 
selves ;  in  their  midst  lay  a  ponderous  engine  with 
a  good  ten  inches  of  barrel.  Denis  was  some  time 
capping  and  loading  it  in  all  five  chambers,  while 
one  companion  watched  with  languid  interest,  and 
the  other  in  silent  throes  of  triumph. 

A  minute  later  they  were  all  three  creeping  on 
the  fire,  like  Indian  scouts.  The  two  rascals  sat 
over  it  still.  One  had  his  back  turned  to  the  ad- 


THIEVES    IN    THE    NIGHT  95 

vancing  enemy ;  and  it  was  so  broad  a  back  that 
they  caught  but  occasional  glimpses  of  his  vis-a-vis, 
who  had  a  rather  remarkable  face,  pale,  shaven,  and 
far  more  typical  of  the  ecclesiastic  than  of  the 
footpad. 

"  That 's  the  dangerous  one,"  whispered  Moseley. 
"  The  other  beggar 's  twice  his  age." 

"  Wait,  then,"  said  Denis — "  what  a  hawk  he 
looks  !  Had  n't  we  better  work  right  round  and 
take  them  in  his  rear  ?  " 

"  As  you  like,"  said  Moseley,  light-heart- 
edly. 

And  they  had  decided  on  this  when  quite  another 
decision  was  rendered  imperative  by  the  younger 
robber  suddenly  bounding  into  the  air  and  flinging 
something  from  him  with  an  oath.  For  one  cold 
instant  the  three  imagined  they  were  caught.  They 
had  halted  unwisely,  where  there  was  little  cover, 
some  fifty  yards  from  the  fire  and  perhaps  a  hun- 
dred yards  from  Moseley's  tree.  It  became  im- 
mediately apparent  that  there  was  only  one  thing 
to  be  done. 

"Why,  it's  more  than  half  silver!"  the  rascal 
shouted,  white  with  rage.  "  It 's  a  cursed  fake ;  he  's 
got  the  rest  somewhere  else — I  '11  hack  his  head  off 
for  this ! " 

A  clump  of  bushes  lay  nearer  the  fire  than  the 
crouching  trio.  "  Run  for  them ! "  whispered 
Denis,  and  led  the  way  with  his  nose  between  his 
knees.  They  reached  the  cover  just  in  time. 


96  DENIS    DENT 

The  man  passed  within  a  yard  of  them.  His  mate 
remained  squatting  over  the  fire. 

"  Now  you  take  this,"  said  Denis,  handing  Jimmy 
a  length  of  the  cut  rope  which  he  had  brought  with 
him,  "  and  you  this,"  giving  Moseley  the  Deane  and 
Adams.  "  Now  both  follow  me — like  mice — and  do 
exactly  what  I  tell  you." 

So  they  crept  up  to  the  fire  in  the  formation 
of  an  isosceles  triangle. 

"  Where  are  you  ?  Where 's  your  tree  ?  If  you 
do  n't  answer  I  '11  carve  your  head  off!  "  they  heard 
one  ruffian  threatening  with  subdued  venom  in  the 
distance ;  his  voice  was  at  its  furthest  and  faintest 
when  Denis  leaped  on  the  other  from  behind  and 
nipped  an  enormous  neck  with  all  ten  fingers. 

"  I  'm  not  going  to  choke  you,  but  you  '11  be  shot 
dead  if  you  make  one  sound.  Here,  Moseley,  stick 
it  to  his  ear.  You  understand,  do  you  ?  One 
sound.  There,  then ;  now  you  '11  be  gagged. 
Jimmy,  the  rope." 

Denis  felt  rather  sorry  for  his  man  as  he  went  to 
work ;  he  was  such  an  elderly  miscreant,  so  broad  and 
squat  (rather  than  obese),  as  one  who  had  been 
pressed  like  a  bale  of  wool.  But  he  held  his  peace 
with  stolid  jowl  until  gagged  by  a  double  thickness 
of  the  rope  that  soon  held  him  hand  and  foot. 

"  Now  for  your  mate,"  said  Denis.  As  he  spoke, 
the  fellow  could  be  heard  shouting  that  their  bird 
was  flown ;  thereupon  the  three  withdrew  behind 
trees.  "  And  remember,"  said  Denis,  who  went  last 


THIEVES    IN    THE    NIGHT  97 

with  the  revolver,  "  if  you  make  a  sign  to  send  him 
back  you  '11  be  the  first." 

They  had  not  a  minute  to  wait.  Their  second 
victim  came  back  cursing  their  first  for  sitting  so 
unmoved  over  the  fire.  Denis  peeped  and  saw  the 
lean,  ascetic  face  advancing  white-hot  with  pas- 
sion ;  in  the  last  ten  yards  he  stopped,  suspicious, 
but  not  yet  of  the  truth,  for  the  untended  fire  had 
declined  to  a  mere  red  and  white  remnant  in  his 
absence. 

"  Good  God,  man,  are  you  dead  ?  "  he  cried,  and 
then  came  running  at  the  thought.  At  the  same 
instant  Denis  stepped  from  behind  his  tree. 

"  Throw  up  your  hands  before  I  fire ! " 

And  up  they  both  went,  but  one  barked  and 
flashed  on  the  way,  and  the  ball  whispered  in 
Denis's  ear  as  he  took  deliberate  aim  and  shot  the 
scoundrel  down. 

"  Take  care ! "  he  shouted  to  the  others,  rushing 
up.  "  I  aimed  low.  He  is  n't  dead.  Do  n't  trust 
him  an  inch  !  " 

But  the  man  had  been  drilled  through  the  sciatic 
nerve,  and  he  leaped  where  he  lay  like  a  landed 
fish.  He  had  let  fall  the  pistol  in  his  pain,  and 
Moseley  had  the  pleasure  of  picking  up  his  own. 

"  Has  anybody  any  brandy?"  asked  Denis,  for  the 
wounded  man  looked  ghastly,  writhing  in  the  star- 
light, and  he  was  bearing  his  torments  without  a  word ; 
but  when  Moseley  produced  a  flask,  and  Denis  held 
it  to  him,  the  unbeaten  brute  only  seized  the  op- 


98  DENIS    DENT 

portunity  of  snatching  at  the  revolver  in  his  other 
hand. 

"  The  blackguard !  "  piped  Doherty,  as  Denis  dis- 
engaged without  a  shot.  "  I  'd  finish  him  for  that ! " 

"  No,  you  would  n't,  Jimmy  ;  but  if  he  wants  to 
grin  and  bear  it,  why,  he  's  welcome — till  they  come 
for  him  !  Come  on,  Moseley,"  added  Denis,  as  that 
placid  person  characteristically  took  his  time,  under 
the  gagged  man's  nose,  over  his  stolen  belongings. 
But  in  a  few  moments  the  three  were  off  at  the 
double,  and  in  a  few  more  the  contents  of  a  third 
revolver  followed  them  without  effect. 

"  I  expected  that,"  said  Denis  as  they  ran.  "  But 
what  a  fine  villain  !  Not  a  word  in  his  pain.  Edu- 
cated man,  I  should  say." 

"  Mean  to  put  the  police  on  'em  to-night  or  in  the 
morning  ?  "  called  Moseley,  with  languid  interest,  as 
he  jogged  along  last. 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Denis. 

"  Not  at  all  ?  "  panted  Doherty. 

"  We  want  to  get  to  the  diggings,  not  to  cool  our 
heels  in  this  nice  place.  We  've  winged  one  and 
taught  them  both  a  lesson,  and  wasted  quite  enough 
time  on  such  carrion  as  it  is." 

They  were  now  in  full  view  of  the  lights  of  Can- 
vas Town.  Moseley,  far  behind,  petitioned  for  a 
more  civilized  pace  in  the  most  strenuous  tone  the 
others  had  yet  heard  from  him.  And  while  they 
waited  Denis  returned  the  revolver  to  its  rightful 
owner. 


THIEVES    IN    THE    NIGHT  99 

"  I  'm  heartily  ashamed  of  myself,  Jimmy,"  said 
he  :  "  first  I  blame  you  for  buying  the  one  thing  we 
want  more  than  another,  and  then  I  take  it  from 
you  and  use  it  myself !  But  the  credit 's  every  bit 
of  it  yours ;  but  for  you  those  villains  would  have 
gone  scot-free  with  this  fellow's  fortune ;  but  for  you 
he  would  be  a  poor  man  to-night,  and  he  's  got  to 
know  it.  I  hope  you  recovered  everything?" 
added  Denis,  as  Moseley  came  up  with  them  at 
his  leisure,  and  all  three  proceeded  to  ward  the  lights. 

"  I  do  n't  know,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  ought  to 
have  thirty-eight  pound,  twelve  and  six,  but  there  's 
over  a  pound  of  it  in  silver,  and  you  did  n't  give  me 
time  to  count  it." 

A  few  paces  were  covered  in  silence ;  then  Denis 
gave  a  grim  little  laugh.  "  So  we  Ve  all  risked  our 
lives  for  thirty-eight  pounds  odd  ! " 

"  It  was  my  all,"  said  Moseley,  rather  hurt.  "  I 
never  said  it  was  much,  and  never  asked  you  to  risk 
your  lives." 

Denis  took  his  arm  with  a  heartier  laugh. 

"  My  dear  fellow,  we  were  n't  going  to  let  you  risk 
yours  alone,  and  I  would  n't  undo  it  if  I  could.  It 
was  n't  a  question  of  amount,  either ;  if  you  had  told 
us  the  figure  it  would  have  made  no  difference. 
But  you  did  say  it  was  your  pile,  you  know,  that 
you  were  taking  back  to  England  !  " 

"  It  was  n't  much  of  one,  certainly,"  the  other  ad- 
mitted on  reflection,  with  his  own  ingenuous  can- 
dour. "  I  am  not  so  sure,  now,  that  it  would  have 


loo  DENIS    DENT 

paid  my  passage  home.  I  never  thought  of  that  be- 
fore. So  you  two  are  going  up  to  the  diggings, 
just  as  I  come  down  ? "  he  added  rather  wistfully, 
after  a  pause. 

"  We  start  to-morrow  if  we  can." 

"  Much  capital,  may  I  ask  ?  " 

"  Not  much  more  than  half  your  pile  between  us, 
I  'm  afraid." 

"  It  needs  more  capital  than  you  'd  think,"  said 
Moseley,  in  a  pensive  way. 

"  I  dare  say." 

And  Denis  sighed. 

"  Ballarat  or  Bendigo  ?  " 

"  I  thought  of  tossing  for  it." 

They  were  back  again  on  the  foul  fringe  of  the  sail- 
cloth suburb.  Moseley  stood  still  in  the  mud.  And 
the  bright  southern  stars  discovered  a  pleasing  diffi- 
dence in  a  wholly  amiable  face. 

"  Have  you  really  no  choice  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Absolutely  none." 

"  Well,  then,  I  hardly  know  how  to  put  it,"  stam- 
mered Moseley ;  "  but  I  Ve  some  experience,  if  I 
have  n't  much  to  show  for  it ;  and  if  Ballarat  would 
do  for  you — I  should  be  sorry  to  turn  up  again  in 
Bendigo  ;  I  'm  afraid  I  did  pretend  I  'd  done  a  little 
better  there — but  Ballarat 's  really  the  place,  and  if 
you  could  do  with  a  third — well,  there  's  my  poor 
little  pile,  it  would  go  into  the  pool,  and — well  I 
do  n't  mind  saying  I  should  be  proud,  after  the  way 
you  Ve  stood  by  me  to-night." 


THIEVES    IN    THE    NIGHT  101 

"  So  should  I ! "  cried  Denis,  seizing  Moseley's 
hand.  His  warm  heart  was  touched.  "  So  would 
Jimmy,"  he  added,  for  the  lad  was  standing  aloof  as 
he  always  would  when  they  were  three.  "  It 's  the 
natural  thing,  and  your  experience  will  be  more 
valuable  than  even  your  money,  not  that  we  can 
take  more  than  your  share  of  that.  Come,  laddie, 
and  give  him  your  hand  on  it,  too ;  and  then  for  the 
best  three  beds  we  can  afford,  and  three  good  glasses 
of  ale  to  seal  the  partnership." 

Doherty  turned  to  Denis  rather  quickly  when  he 
had  shaken  the  new  partner's  hand.  "  You  see,"  he 
said,  "  it  is  a  case  of  beds,  after  all !  " 

But  his  tone  was  reproachful  rather  than  trium- 
phant, as  though  Denis  might  have  listened  to  him 
before. 


CHAPTER  XI 
STRANGE  BEDFELLOWS 

THE  firm  of  Dent,  Moseley,  and  Doherty, 
gold-diggers,  was  formally  established  next 
day,  in  a  clump  of  trees  a  few  miles  out  of 
Melbourne.  Denis  had  experienced  no  difficulty  in 
obtaining  his  paltry  dues  from  the  shipping  agents, 
but  even  so  he  and  Doherty  could  not  muster 
twenty  pounds  between  them.  Moseley,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  for  putting  in  nearly  double  this 
amount,  and  yet  only  receiving  his  one-third  of  the 
profits.  He  argued  that  but  for  the  others  he 
would  have  had  nothing  to  put  in  at  all.  It  was 
long  before  Denis  would  listen  to  him,  and  Doherty 
took  no  part  in  the  discussion.  But  eventually  a 
compromise  was  agreed  upon,  and  thus  entered  by 
Denis  in  a  new  pocketbook  purchased  for  the 
nonce : — 

October,  19,  1853.  £,     s.     d. 

Dent  and  Doherty       Cash       19    12    10 

Moseley "     .     19    14     6 

"        Loan  to  Company      18    10     o 

£S7    17     4 


STRANGE    BEDFELLOWS  103 

This  pocketbook,  with  its  blue-lined  sheaf  of 
glorious  possibilities,  represented  Denis's  one  dis- 
bursement in  Melbourne  beyond  bed,  board,  and  the 
glasses  of  beer  overnight.  A  rigid  economy  was 
his  watchword ;  they  must  walk  to  Ballarat ;  so  let 
their  packs  be  light,  and  if  kits  were  dearer  on  the 
diggings,  they  would  still  have  saved. 

Doherty  agreed  with  every  word  ;  but  as  they  re- 
sumed their  journey,  and  Moseley  fell  a  few  paces 
behind,  he  reminded  Denis  of  the  nuggets  which 
Bullocky  had  forced  upon  them  at  the  inn. 

"  I  said  we  'd  keep  them  for  luck,"  replied  Denis  ; 
"  but,  of  course,  I  could  only  speak  for  myself;  you 
must  do  what  you  like  with  yours." 

"  I  do  what  you  do,"  said  the  boy. 

"  And  you  both  do  well !  "  added  Moseley,  catch- 
ing them  up.  "  I  'm  all  in  favour  of  a  fetish ;  that 's 
what  I  never  had  on  Bendigo.  But  nuggets — decoy 
nuggets — set  a  nugget  to  catch  a  nugget,  eh  ? 
That 's  a  fetish  and  a  half !  I  suppose  they  're  only 
little  bits  of  things  ?  Do  you  mind  letting  me  see 
them  ?  " 

When  he  did  see  them,  he  changed  his  tune. 

"  Good  heavens !  But  these  must  be  over  a 
pound  between  them,  if  not  getting  on  for  three 
figures  in  the  other  kind  of  pounds ;  do  you  mean 
to  say  you  had  these  given  you  ?  I  say,  I  'm  not 
sure  that  my  affection  for  a  fetish  would  hold  out 
against  one  of  these." 

"  Well,  mine  will,"  said  Denis,  smiling  with  set 


104  DENIS    DENT 

teeth.  "  I  do  n't  turn  presents  into  money,  Mose- 
ley, till  the  devil  drives  !  " 

"  But  who  on  earth  made  you  such  presents  as 
these?" 

"  Oh,  a  rough  diamond  with  a  beard  to  his 
middle,  and  a  voice  like  a  bull,  who  did  his 
best  to  stand  on  his  head  in  a  bucket  of  cham- 
pagne." 

"  By  Jove !  I  believe  it  must  have  been  old  Bull- 
ocky  himself." 

"  It  was.     Do  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  Know  him  ?  No  one  was  ever  yet  on  Bendigo 
without  knowing  old  Bullocky;  he's  cock  of  the 
walk  in  Ironbark  Gully,  finds  gold  every  time,  by  a 
sort  of  second  sight,  as  some  of  these  chaps  find 
water.  Why,  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  him  he  was 
sitting  picking  nuggets  out  of  a  lump  of  earth  like 
plums  from  a  pudding ! " 

And  Moseley  beguiled  a  mile  or  more  with  tales 
of  the  great  gorilla ;  he  had,  indeed,  a  very  passable 
gift  of  anecdote,  and  an  easy,  idle,  fanciful  wit  which 
made  up  in  rarer  qualities  what  it  lacked  in  bril- 
liance and  virility.  He  had  not  a  foul  or  an  unkind 
word  in  his  vocabulary;  and  Denis  had  been  too 
long  at  sea  to  undervalue  either  merit.  Moseley 
was  not  only  a  gentleman,  but  a  man  of  refinement 
and  no  little  charm,  whose  companionship  might 
well  be  prized  by  such  another  at  that  wild  end  of 
the  earth.  And  yet  Denis  forgot  to  listen  as  one 
entertaining  tale  led  light-heartedly  to  another,  for 


STRANGE    BEDFELLOWS  105 

it  was  only  the  humours  of  the  life  that  Moseley 
seemed  to  have  absorbed. 

"  But  I  might  as  well  save  my  breath,"  said 
Moseley,  with  more  truth  than  he  supposed.  "  It 's 
bound  to  be  the  same  on  Ballarat,  only  more  of  it ; 
the  one  thing  I  can  promise  you  is  plenty  of  com- 
pensation if  the  fetish  does  n't  do  his  duty." 

Denis  smiled  without  replying.  "  I  suppose  you 
do  n't  know  what  sort  of  soil  it  is  at  Ballarat  ?  "  he 
asked  at  length. 

"  At  Ballarat  ?  "  cried  Moseley,  greatly  amused. 
"  Why,  my  dear  fellow,  I  could  n't  tell  you  what 
sort  it  was  at  Bendigo  ! " 

"  But  you  were  digging  there  five  months." 

"  Digging,  exactly ;  not  studying  the  soil." 

"  They  seemed  to  you  to  find  it  anywhere,  did 
they  ?  " 

"  Anywhere  and  everywhere,  my  dear  fellow ! 
Are  you  a  geologist,  Dent  ?  "  The  question  came 
after  a  pause. 

"  Not  as  yet,"  said  Denis ;  and  Doherty,  who  had 
no  notion  what  a  geologist  was,  glanced  at  him 
sidelong  as  at  one  who  could  soon  be  it  or  anything 
else  he  chose. 

So  the  time  passed,  and  the  miles  were  mounting 
up  when  Moseley,  who  ought  to  have  known  the 
way  to  a  certain  point,  found  that  he  had  overshot 
it  by  as  many  miles  again.  It  was  a  trying  mo- 
ment for  the  height  and  heat  of  the  afternoon ;  but 
so  savage  was  the  mild  Moseley  with  himself,  so 


io6  DENIS    DENT 

unusually  animated  with  his  contrition,  that  Denis 
slapped  him  on  the  back,  and  they  turned  back 
laughing  to  an  inn  where  they  had  drunk  beer  a 
couple  of  hours  before.  This  beer-drinking  was  an 
extravagance  resented  by  Denis,  yet  not  a  point  on 
which  he  cared  to  oppose  the  man  who  had  con- 
tributed so  freely  to  the  common  fund.  Nothing 
could  have  been  more  wholesome  for  active  young 
fellows,  but  their  beer  alone  cost  them  eight  and 
threepence  the  first  day,  bread  three  and  six,  billy- 
can  two  and  six,  tea  and  sugar  two  and  six,  and 
their  beds  at  this  inn  six  shillings.  One  pound 
two  and  nine-pence  for  the  first  nine  miles. 

Denis  did  not  grumble,  but  in  his  heart  he  re- 
sented the  beds  almost  as  much  as  the  beer ;  there 
was  more  to  be  said  for  them,  however,  especially 
in  a  country  teeming  with  desperate  characters ; 
and  the  beds  at  least  were  cheap,  few  travelers 
breaking  their  journey  so  near  its  beginning  or  its 
end.  Denis,  however,  sat  late  in  the  bar,  listening 
to  the  conversation  of  all  and  sundry  who  stopped 
to  drink,  and  learning  much  in  an  unobtrusive  way : 
he  had  never  in  his  life  been  quite  such  a  Dent,  so 
canny,  so  calculating,  and  so  cool.  As  a  first  step 
toward  the  accomplishment  of  his  great  resolve,  he 
had  already  overcome  the  romantic  spirit  of  its  in- 
ception ;  thus  the  next  night,  at  Bacchus  Marsh,  he 
thought  nothing  of  foregathering  with  an  odious 
little  man,  who  consulted  Denis  as  to  the  best  place 
to  get  a  "  white  'igh  'at  and  a  diamond  ring  "  im- 


STRANGE    BEDFELLOWS  107 

mediately  on  landing  in  London,  but  who  gave  him 
much  valuable  information  in  return.  And  the 
night  after  that,  when  they  were  fifty  miles  from 
Melbourne,  there  was  a  landlord  with  gold-dust 
sticking  to  the  palms  of  his  hands,  who  only  needed 
plying  with  his  own  liquor  to  talk  by  the  hour.  By 
this  time  Moseley  was  keeping  them  all  back  with 
a  sore  heel ;  and  the  nearer  the  diggings,  the  greater 
each  day's  expenses ;  but  Denis  no  longer  grudged 
the  money,  for  he  was  gaining  much  that  money 
could  not  buy. 

Often  they  were  overtaken  and  left  behind  by 
more  dashing  adventurers,  aggressively  mounted 
and  armed,  and  what  was  more  galling,  once  or 
twice  by  swifter  pedestrians  than  themselves ;  but 
Moseley  preferred  hobbling  with  his  companions  to 
boarding  the  scarlet  coach  which  passed  them, 
pitching  like  a  ship  on  its  leather  springs.  The 
partners  met  with  no  moving  accident  on  the  road. 
Rumours  of  bushrangers  were  never  followed  by 
their  appearance.  It  was  not  the  less  delightful  to 
meet  the  Ballast  gold-escort  coming  down,  in  its 
sparkling  cordon  of  sabres  and  lace,  for  it  made  the 
braver  show  in  those  sombre  wilds4,  and  left  a  re- 
assuring sense  of  law  and  order  in  its  yellow  wake. 

The  fourth  night  they  camped  out  but  ten  miles 
from  the  diggings,  where  they  hoped  to  arrive  by 
noon  next  day ;  but  the  blister  on  Moseley's  heel 
broke  and  bled,  and  though  either  Denis  or  Jim 
carried  his  pack  thereafter,  while  the  other  gave 


io8  DENIS    DENT 

him  an  arm,  the  last  and  most  exciting  stage  oi 
their  journey  was  also  the  slowest.  The  deep-cut 
bullock-track  led  them  all  morning  by  open  flat 
and  shallow  gully,  between  low  hills  timbered  like 
an  English  park ;  from  noon  on,  as  the  track  con- 
verged with  others,  the  party  received  more  than 
one  cheery  invitation  to  drain  a  pannikin  of  tea  at 
wayside  encampments ;  but  even  the  lame  man 
would  not  stop  again,  and  the  light  in  his  eyes  was 
as  bright  as  any.  The  three  drew  close  together  as 
they  walked.  It  was  as  though  each  made  it  a 
point  of  honour  neither  to  lead  by  an  inch  nor  to 
keep  the  others  back;  it  was  also  as  though  all 
three  had  lost  their  tongues  and  found  new  eyes, 
for  the  gold-light  was  in  them  all. 

"  Hush ! "  exclaimed  Denis,  stopping  sud- 
denly. 

A  deep  though  distant  hum  came  to  their  ears, 
faintly  at  first,  but  in  a  steady  boom  as  they  stooped 
and  listened  without  a  breath  between  them. 

"  It 's  like  the  streets  of  London,  from  the  docks, 
after  a  voyage,"  whispered  Denis,  raising  a  puzzled 
face  a  little. 

"  It 's  a  creek,"  said  Doherty.  "  I  never  knew 
they  had  a  creek  like  that." 

"  Nor  I." 

And  as  one  man  they  turned  to  Moseley,  to  stand 
upright  on  the  spot ;  for  so  he  was  standing,  and 
grinning  at  them  both  from  ear  to  ear. 

"  That 's  not  traffic,  nor  yet  a  creek,"  said  he. 


STRANGE    BEDFELLOWS  109 

"  It  was  the  same  when  you  got  near  Bendigo. 
It 's  the  gold  in  the  cradles.  It 's  the  gold  !  " 

The  broad  brown  track  rose  before  them,  scored 
by  a  myriad  wheels,  backed  by  hard  blue  sky.  In 
an  instant  they  were  racing  skyward  between  the 
ruts.  Jimmy  had  given  a  whoop,  and  Moseley  his 
light-hearted  laugh,  but  Denis  led  without  a  word 
until  the  deep  hum  had  risen  to  a  rumble.  Then 
he  looked  round,  and  Jimmy  passed  him  with  a  yell. 
Moseley  was  running  very  lame.  Denis  waited  for 
him. 

"  Jump  on  my  back  !  "  said  he.  "  I  won't  leave 
you,  and  I  can't  wait." 

"  You  certainly  can't  carry  me." 

"  We  '11  see." 

"  Then  you  sha'  n't." 

"  Come  on  !  " 

And  Denis  was  soon  staggering  in  Doherty's 
steps,  a  lean  shin  protuding  from  the  crook  of 
either  arm,  a  good  ten  stone  upon  his  back.  As 
he  stumbled  on,  in  the  last  hundred  yards,  the 
rumble  resolved  itself  into  the  roar  of  ten  thousand 
cradles  rocking  as  one.  And  on  the  hill's  crest 
Doherty  stood  waving  his  wideawake  against  the 
blue. 

Denis  reeled  up  to  him,  breathing  hard,  with 
Moseley  still  protesting  on  his  back.  But  for  the 
next  few  minutes  it  might  have  been  a  bronze  group 
that  crowned  the  hill. 

Under  their  eyes,  in  a  single  smooth  green  basin 


no  DENIS    DENT 

of  the  sere  and  wooded  ranges,  were  the  tents  and 
earthworks  of  all  nations,  joined  for  once  in  un- 
natural war  upon  the  earth  that  bore  them.  White 
were  the  tents  of  that  unparalleled  encampment, 
gleaming  coolly  in  the  sun,  and  pitched  in  patches 
like  the  scent  from  a  paper-chase ;  and  for  every 
tent  there  was  a  red-lipped  shaft,  with  men  like 
ants  crawling  out  and  in,  and  muddy  pools  here  and 
there  between  the  heaps,  with  more  ants  busy  at 
their  brim.  Here  a  few  cradles  rocked,  like  great 
square-toed  shoes ;  but  they  blackened  either  bank 
of  the  yellow  stream  that  picked  its  way  between 
the  tents  and  the  ant-heaps  of  gravel  and  of  clay  ; 
and  thence  the  noise,  as  of  a  giant  foundry,  which 
could  be  heard  a  mile  away.  The  squeak  of  a 
windlass  was  a  variation  at  closer  quarters ;  the 
deeper  claims  were  thus  distinguished ;  the  deepest 
of  all  had  windsails,  too,  that  rose  from  the  earth 
like  tall  ghosts,  with  lantern  jaws  and  arms  like  fins. 

"  Anything  like  Bendigo  ?  "  whispered  Doherty  to 
the  seasoned  digger,  who  was  standing  between  the 
other  two. 

"  More  compact,"  replied  Moseley.  "  And  not 
half  the  trees." 

"  This  must  be  Black  Hill  Flat,  this  open  ground 
on  our  right,"  said  Denis.  "  And  that  should  be 
Bakery  Hill  over  there  on  the  left." 

His  tone  made  the  others  look  from  the  landmarks 
indicated  to  Denis  himself;  and  he  was  consulting 
a  dirty  bit  of  cardboard. 


STRANGE    BEDFELLOWS  111 

"  What  have  you  got  there  ?  "  asked  Moseley, 
edging  up  to  him. 

"  A  map,  a  map  ! "  cried  Jimmy,  who  had  run 
round  to  his  other  side. 

"Where  on  earth  did  you  get  hold  of  that, 
Dent?" 

"  Aha !  "  chuckled  Denis.  "  I  suppose  you  do  n't 
remember  the  man  I  told  you  about  at  Bacchus 
Marsh,  who  wanted  the  white  hat  and  the  diamond 
ring  ?  He  gave  it  to  me,  and  I  'd  rather  have  it 
than  the  fifty  pounds  he  said  he  'd  give  for  his  ring  ! 
I  make  that  the  Gravel  Pits  right  ahead  across  the 
stream  ;  you  can  see  the  sun  on  the  pools  of  water  ; 
they  say  it 's  the  wettest  bit  on  the  diggings.  And 
you  see  the  trim  tent  to  the  right  on  the  green 
mound?  That's  Commissioner's  Flat,  where  we 
shall  go  first  thing  on  Monday  morning  for  our 
licenses." 

"  You  've  been  here  before,"  said  Moseley,  with  an 
amused  shake  of  the  head.  "  You  were  here  last 
voyage — do  n't  tell  me  !  " 

"  My  last  voyage  was  to  Calcutta,"  said  Denis, 
laughing  as  they  walked  on  ;  "  but  if  you  like  I 
was  here  most  nights  on  the  way  up,  more  especially 
the  one  we  spent  at  Bacchus  Marsh." 

The  first  pair  of  diggers  actually  at  work  in  their 
hole  thrilled  Denis  none  the  less,  and  it  was  he  who 
led  the  way  to  have  a  better  look  at  them.  They 
were  quite  close  to  the  road  on  Black  Hill  Flat, 
which  was  an  attractive  part  for  new  hands,  with 


112  DENIS    DENT 

fewer  claims  and  more  trees  than  there  seemed  to 
be  further  on.  These  men's  tent  stood  out  of  the 
grass  like  a  roof  in  a  flood ;  and  beyond  the  tent  a 
red  night-cap  bobbed  above  ground,  as  one  man 
plied  the  pick  while  the  other  leaned  on  the  shovel 
awaiting  his  turn.  The  new  chums  halted  at  a  re- 
spectful distance,  but  the  man  with  the  shovel  made 
them  welcome  with  a  friendly  oath,  and  chatted 
good-humouredly  in  the  Tyneside  tongue  as  they 
all  stood  looking  down  into  the  hole. 

"  You  'd  bettaw  come  and  peg  out  alongside  of 
us,"  he  said.  "  We  come  from  Newcassel,  and 
we're  new  chums  ourselves." 

"  And  why  did  you  choose  this  place  ?  "  asked 
Denis. 

The  man  with  the  shovel  gave  a  happy-go-lucky 
shrug. 

"  Howt !  "  said  he.  "  One  pudding  's  as  good  as 
anothaw  until  you  eat  it ; "  and  Moseley  added, 
"  Quite  true,"  with  an  experienced  nod. 

"  But  we  'd  gotten  a  good  account  o'  't,"  put  in 
the  man  with  the  red  night-cap,  burying  his  pick  in 
the  upper  earth,  and  scrambling  out  of  the  hole  with 
its  aid.  "  The  wash-dirt 's  close  to  top,  an'  dry  as  a 
slag-heap ;  what 's  more,  a  parcel  of  Frenchmen 
have  made  their  fortunes  here  this  very  year ;  an' 
it 's  a  queer  thing  if  we  can't  do  as  well  as  them 
beggaws." 

The  man  with  the  shovel  was  now  doing  his  part 
below  ground  with  great  vigour.  Shovelfuls  of  a 


STRANGE    BEDFELLOWS  113 

hard  conglomerate  of  quartz,  ironstone,  sand  and 
clay,  were  flying  in  all  directions.  As  the  new- 
comers withdrew,  Moseley  took  Denis  by  the  arm. 

"  We  might  find  a  worse  place  to  camp : 
what  do  you  say  to  that  gum-tree  further  on  to- 
ward the  hill  ?  I  tell  you  what — I  '11  borrow  an 
axe  from  these  chaps,  and  cut  fire-wood  and  tent- 
poles  if  you  two  will  go  for  some  rations  and  a 
dozen  yards  of  canvas.  It'll  be  dark  in  another 
hour ;  do  n't  be  much  longer,  and  you  '11  find 
a  fire  on,  and  everything  ready  for  pitching  the 
tent." 

"  We  do  n't  want  to  settle  on  the  first  place  we 
come  to,"  said  Denis,  between  dubiety  and  a  natural 
attraction  to  the  spot. 

"  Or  anywhere  else,  in  a  hurry,"  agreed  Moseley ; 
"  but  we  've  got  to  spend  the  night  somewhere,  and 
a  quiet  Sunday  while  we  look  about  us ;  and  for 
that  I  do  n't  think  you  could  do  better." 

So  the  site  of  their  first  encampment  came  to  be 
selected;  it  was  marked  by  a  solitary  and  rather 
stately  blue  gum-tree,  of  which  Denis  took  due  note 
as  Doherty  and  he  regained  the  track. 


CHAPTER  XII 
EL  DORADO 

ON  the  road  they  fell  in  with  a  long-legged 
digger,  in  the  muddy  remnants  of  a  well- 
cut  pair  of  trousers,  which  telescoped  into 
top-boots  of  a  more  enduring  excellence ;  the  man 
was  further  distinguished  by  a  certain  negligent 
finesse  of  beard  and  moustache,  a  very  quiet  blue 
eye,  and  a  voice  as  quiet  when  he  stopped  in  his 
stroll  to  address  the  pair. 

"  Surfacing,  I  suppose  ?  "  said  he,  with  a  slight 
but  sufficient  indication  of  the  Tynesiders'  claim. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ? "  said  Denis,  out  of  his 
depth  at  once. 

"  I  ought  to  beg  yours,"  the  tall  man  responded, 
opening  his  blue  eyes  a  little  wider,  and  regarding 
Denis  with  quiet  interest.  "  I  merely  saw  you 
come  away  from  that  claim  over  there,  and  I  take 
rather  an  interest  in  Black  Hill  Flat.  That  is  it, 
you  know." 

Denis  nodded. 

"  You  are  n't  a  new  chum,  then  ? "  the  other 
added,  smiling  over  the  term. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  am.  This  is  our  first  sight  of  the 
diggings." 


EL    DORADO  115 

"  Then  it 's  no  use  asking  you  a  technical  ques- 
tion; but  surfacing,  of  course,  means  going  no 
deeper  than  the  surface — some  ten  or  twenty  feet, 
do  n't  you  know.  Very  few  do  go  deeper,  and  I 
am  not  sure  that  it  would  pay  on  this  flat." 

Denis  explained  that  the  Tynesiders  had  only 
got  about  five  feet  down. 

"  So  many  of  them  give  it  up  at  that,"  said  the 
tall  man,  with  a  faint  smile,  and  would  have  gone 
on  with  the  least  little  nod ;  but  Denis  quickly 
asked  him  how  deep  he  would  go  himself  and  what 
he  thought  of  Black  Hill  Flat. 

"  I  'm  a  deep-sinker,"  was  the  reply ;  "  but  if  I 
was  n't,  and  was  one  of  a  party,  there 's  nowhere  I 
would  sooner  try  my  luck  than  over  there.  The 
drawback  is  than  you  can't  go  very  near  the  water, 
because  the  lead  does  n't ;  so  you  have  a  long 
way  to  carry  your  wash-dirt,  and  it  wants  three  or 
four  to  keep  the  pot  boiling.  On  the  other  hand 
that 's  what  keeps  off  the  average  digger,  who 's  the 
most  impatient  person  in  the  world,  and  so  you 
have  the  place  more  or  less  to  yourself.  Still,  of 
course,  the  fewer  there  are  to  seek  the  longer  they 
will  take  to  find,  unless  some  one  is  very  fortunate. 
A  lucky  man,  though,"  said  the  tall  digger,  looking 
back  toward  the  Tynesiders'  camp — "  a  lucky  man 
with  two  hard-working  mates  might  make  his  for- 
tune there  as  soon  as  anywhere." 

"  Did  n't  some  Frenchmen  ?  "  asked  Denis,  re- 
membering what  he  had  heard  at  the  claim. 


ii6  DENIS    DENT 

"  Ah,  that  was  on  the  hill,  and  quartz ;  how  they 
crushed  it  I  can't  conceive ;  for  the  ordinary  man 
it  would  be  more  ruinous  than  deep  sinking,  which 
is  saying  a  great  deal." 

The  tall  digger  was  turning  away  again,  with 
rather  more  of  a  smile,  but  Denis's  eager  face  de- 
tained him  a  little  longer. 

"  Then  which  do  you  recommend,"  asked  Denis, 
"  surfacing  or  deep-sinking  ?  " 

"  Oh,  come,"  laughed  the  other,  "  I  '11  be  shot 
if  I  recommend  either !  It  depends  on  yourself 
and  your  resources.  One 's  quick  and  cheap  and 
easy,  but  nearly  all  a  matter  of  luck ;  the  other 's  far 
slower  and  more  expensive,  but  also  far  surer  for  a 
man  of  intelligence,  as  I  can  see  you  are.  If  you 
go  in  for  surfacing,  you  might  give  Black  Hill  Flat 
a  trial;  but  I  shouldn't  tackle  it  less  than  three 
strong." 

And  with  a  last  good-humoured  and  yet  distant 
nod,  a  mixture  of  courtesy  and  condescension  alike 
inbred,  the  tall  man  went  his  way,  as  it  might  have 
been  down  Pall  Mall — at  the  same  pace,  and  with 
the  same  carriage — in  his  deplorable  trousers  and 
his  long-suffering  top-boots. 

"  I  wonder  who  he  is,"  said  Doherty,  on  whom 
the  still  blue  eyes  had  not  rested  for  a  moment. 

"  I  wonder  where  he  is,"  returned  Denis,  "  and 
how  much  good  he 's  doing  there."  Nor  would  he 
discuss  the  man,  with  Doherty,  as  a  man  at  all,  but 
only  as  the  most  superior  digger  thus  far  within 


EL    DORADO  117 

their  ken.  It  was  nevertheless  a  new  type  to 
Denis  ;  he  did  not  belong  to  it  himself,  neither  did 
Moseley,  nor  yet  Ralph  Devenish  with  all  his  airs. 
But  it  was  as  a  digger  of  transparent  parts  that 
the  tall  man  returned  to  a  mind  from  which  the 
general  impression  soon  blotted  the  particular. 

The  general  impression  on  the  banks  of  the  Yar- 
rowee  was  a  strident  chaos  in  extreme  tints.  The 
rocking  of  the  countless  cradles  made  a  distracting 
chorus  at  close  quarters.  The  vividness  of  the  pic- 
ture helped  to  daze  a  newcomer.  The  sky  was 
bright  blue  overhead ;  the  mud  on  all  sides  was 
the  very  brightest  mud ;  the  tiny  patches  of  green 
were  as  bright  as  emeralds.  Grass  and  mud  sparkled 
with  a  rank  dew  of  empty  bottles.  Nearly  every- 
thing was  wet  and  glistening  in  the  level  sunlight. 
The  hairy  miners  shone  with  their  own  moisture 
and  their  own  sunshine  of  enthusiasm,  for  the  gold- 
light  lit  up  every  face.  Nor  was  it  an  ignoble  face  as 
Denis  saw  it  over  and  over  again.  It  was  full  of  the 
hearty  virile  hope  that  expanded  his  own  soul.  And 
it  was  every  vivid  tint  of  red  and  brown,  as  the  mud 
was  every  bright  shade  of  brown  and  yellow ;  and  to 
each  red  face  there  was  a  redder  shirt,  and  to  every 
red  shirt  a  pair  of  moleskin  trousers,  often  snow- 
white,  never  the  less  picturesque  for  the  clots  of 
splendid  mud  that  plastered  and  spattered  it.  For 
to  Denis  the  mud  was  gold  at  first  sight,  molten 
gold  that  should  have  nipped  off  his  foot  when  he 
sank  ankle  deep  in  it,  as  it  was  liquid  gold  that 


n8  DENIS    DENT 

wound  in  and  out  among  the  tents,  and  was  seen 
piecemeal  through  the  strings  of  moleskin  legs  and 
rocking  cradles,  between  the  banks  of  the  Yarrowee. 

The  famous  cradle  really  was  like  a  great  wooden 
boot  on  rockers ;  the  ankle  was  a  raised  and  perfor- 
ated tray  into  which  they  threw  a  bucketful  of  earth 
and  then  a  balerful  of  water ;  the  foot  was  a  trough 
which  received  the  muddy  fluid  and  its  precious 
sediment.  As  Denis  watched  the  operation  for  the 
first  time,  he  imagined  the  gold-dust  pouring 
through  the  perforations  like  pepper  from  a  caster ; 
yet  all  that  was  ultimately  taken  out  of  the  toe  of 
the  cradle,  and  good  naturedly  thrust  under  the  new 
chums'  noses  in  the  hollow  of  a  horny  palm,  would 
have  been  a  small  helping  of  salt.  Denis  could 
have  taken  his  hat  off  to  it,  nevertheless,  and  in  an- 
other moment  Doherty  did  throw  his  into  the  air. 

"  Not  a  bad  tub,"  the  digger  had  informed  them. 
"  Very  near  an  ounce,  I  '11  wager,  or  four  good  quid 
while  you  've  been  watching." 

Some  claims  were  so  near  the  water  that  the  new- 
comers saw  exactly  how  the  labour  was  divided  in 
parties  of  three.  One  man  was  busy  in  the  hole, 
digging  and  filling  bucket  after  bucket ;  another 
carried  the  buckets  to  and  fro,  emptying  the  full  one 
into  the  tray  of  the  cradle  ;  the  third  did  the  rock- 
ing and  supplied  the  water.  The  deeper  claims 
were  crowned  by  a  windlass  mounted  on  a  frame- 
work of  logs  ;  and  Denis  supposed  it  was  a  fourth 
man  who  stood  thereon  to  raise  and  lower  the 


EL    DORADO  119 

buckets.  But  nothing  was  more  fascinating  to 
watch  than  the  most  primitive  operation  of  all, 
namely  the  use  of  the  tin  wash-pan  by  certain  old 
diggers  who  still  preferred  it  to  the  cradle :  there 
was  downright  legerdemain  in  the  whirlpool  of  earth 
and  water  that  they  made  in  a  mere  hand-basin,  but 
especially  in  the  way  they  got  rid  of  both,  slop  by 
slop,  until  only  the  gold-dust  tinkled  in  the  tin. 

The  pair  picked  their  way  between  the  heaps  of 
mud  and  gravel  known  as  the  Gravel  Pits.  They 
walked  up  to  Commissioner's  Flat,  and  saw  the 
Commissioner  himself,  in  his  gold-lace  cap,  seated 
at  a  table  in  his  tent,  like  an  ordinary  general  in  the 
field.  On  the  table  were  a  pair  of  scales  that  Denis 
undertook  to  trouble  before  long.  "  Those  are 
what  they  weigh  it  with,"  he  whispered  to  Do- 
herty ;  and  they  watched  a  happy  miner  go  in  with 
a  leathern  bag  and  come  out  gloating  over  his  re- 
ceipt. This  was  the  most  populous  part  of  the  dig- 
gings. There  was  some  speaking  sight  or  some 
striking  face  at  every  turn.  All  the  men  were 
bearded  like  the  pard ;  they  might  have  lost  a  nug- 
get while  they  scraped  a  chin  ;  and  the  community 
seemed  devoid  of  women.  On  one  claim,  however, 
a  whole  family  were  at  work,  the  father  digging,  the 
mother  rocking  as  she  nursed  her  babe,  an  elder  in- 
fant toddling  with  its  share  of  grist,  the  eldest  pour- 
ing water  into  the  mill. 

As  man  and  boy  wandered  and  looked  on,  obliv- 
ious of  their  errand,  the  day's  work  ended  as  by  a 


120  DENIS    DENT 

miracle  at  six  o'clock  to  the  minute.  Perhaps  they 
had  missed  some  warning  shot  or  signal  in  their 
absorption  ;  it  certainly  was  as  though  a  second  Big 
Ben  had  clanged  the  hour  from  which  no  man 
might  rock  a  cradle  or  fill  a  tub.  One  minute  the 
cradles  roared  their  loudest ;  then,  a  lull  that  grew 
into  a  widespread  human  hum  ;  and  within  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  a  thousand  crackling  fires,  each  with  its 
wreath  of  bluish  smoke,  its  steaming  pot  for  the 
centre  of  the  firelit  circle.  The  bewildered  pair  had 
meanwhile  set  about  their  business  by  an  effort ; 
and  it  tided  them  into  a  world  of  yellow  and  translu- 
cent tents,  a  simple  world  presently  enlivened  by 
blurting  cornets,  squeaking  fiddles,  and  the  ubiq- 
uitous concertina. 

It  was  a  Saturday  night,  and  the  scene  was  very 
like  a  gigantic  fair ;  here  was  a  small,  ill-lighted 
tent,  sibilant  with  the  suppressed  excitements  of  sly 
grog ;  but  here,  there,  and  everywhere  were  large, 
well-lighted,  over-crowded  store-tents,  with  flags  fly- 
ing honestly  against  the  stars.  Yet  even  in  these  a 
Hogarth  might  have  reveled.  Diggers  of  the 
stamp  of  Bullocky  pitched  bank-notes  right  and 
left,  nor  ever  counted  the  change;  or  instead  of 
change,  lengths  of  calico  or  bars  of  soap  were  tossed 
across  the  counters.  Yet  Denis  had  managed  at 
last  to  get  more  or  less  of  what  was  wanted  at  com- 
paratively reasonable  prices.  He  paid  only  eighteen 
pence  a  yard  for  thirteen  yards  of  canvas,  three 
shillings  for  a  pound  of  cheese,  tenpence  a  pound 


EL    DORADO  121 

for  potatoes,  and  four-and-sixpence  for  a  hind- 
quarter  of  mutton.  He  was  struggling  out  of  the 
tent,  holding  the  meat  aloft,  with  Doherty  at  his 
heels,  when  a  cold  thrill  ran  down  him.  Two  other 
men  were  struggling  in,  and  the  four  met  so  fairly 
as  to  block  each  other's  way.  One  of  the  new 
comers  had  a  grayish  beard  badly  dyed,  and  little 
eyes  under  a  peaked  cap ;  the  other  was  smoking  a 
meerschaum  pipe  with  a  Turk's  face,  as  unmistak- 
able as  his  own,  yet  Denis  had  to  hear  him  speak 
before  he  could  believe  his  eyes. 

"  Well  met,  Dent !  I  suppose  I  'm  about  the  last 
person  you  expected  to  see  here,  eh  ? '' 

"  You  are." 

"  Why,  I  passed  you  on  the  road,  man,  passed 
you  in  the  coach,  and  you  never  saw  us  !  I  changed 
my  mind  before  the  pilot  left  us ;  did  n't  see  why 
you  should  do  all  the  fortune-making,  Dent,  my 
boy  ;  so  here  I  am."  And  the  bold  eyes  of  Ralph 
Devenish  gleamed  with  a  sudden  malice  that  pierced 
the  man's  gay  crust,  while  those  of  his  companion 
seemed  smaller,  closer,  and  yet  merrier  than  before. 

"  Good  !  "  said  Denis,  looking  his  cousin  steadily 
in  the  face.  "  I  hope  we  may  both  make  our  for- 
tunes, Devenish — and  then  go  home  together  in  the 
same  ship ! " 


CHAPTER  XIII 
THE  ENEMY'S  CAMP 

RALPH  DEVENISH  was  the  eldest  son  of 
doting  parents  who  had  done  their  duty  by 
him  according  to  their  lights.  They  were 
well-to-do  folk,  though  the  homely  epithet  would 
have  insulted  the  blood  which  was  their  boast ;  they 
were  not,  however,  really  wealthy,  and  they  had  the 
vast  family  of  their  generation.  It  was  therefore 
something  of  a  sacrifice  to  send  Ralph  to  his  public 
school,  and  a  distinct  one  to  support  his  subsequent 
commission  in  the  Guards.  It  is  true  that  the  sacri- 
fice fell  principally  upon  a  long  line  of  younger 
brethren,  who  could  scarcely  have  filled  the  parental 
eye  less  if  they  had  stood  all  their  lives  in  Indian 
file  behind  the  first-born.  But  many  was  the  time 
the  father  paid  some  debt  with  hardly  a  murmur,  or 
the  mother  pinched  herself  to  make  surreptitious 
additions  to  the  gay  lad's  allowance ;  for  man  and 
boy  he  was  the  first  consideration  in  their  minds, 
and  consequently  the  sole  consideration  in  his  own. 
In  return  this  criminal  couple  had  a  brilliant  and 
successful  son,  who  was  a  favourite  wherever  he 
went,  especially  among  strangers,  and  who  frater- 
nized to  their  satisfaction  with  the  more  direct  issue 


THE    ENEMY'S    CAMP      123 

of  families  almost  as  old  as  their  own ;  the  only  dis- 
appointment was  that  Ralph  was  nearing  his  thirties 
without  having  married  into  one  or  other  of  them. 
It  was  time,  for  many  reasons,  that  he  made  the 
marriage  that  was  only  to  be  expected  of  him,  and 
settled  down.  The  marriage  that  was  only  to  be 
expected  of  Ralph  Devenish  declined  in  brilliance 
as  the  years  went  on ;  but  the  prospect  finally  re- 
solved itself  into  no  regrettable  alliance  with  a 
beautiful  and  charming  girl,  who  was  also  quite  a 
little  heiress  in  her  way.  Then  Ralph  and  Nan  had 
known  each  other  all  their  lives.  The  families  were 
allied  in  business.  There  was  nothing  in  the  world 
against  the  inferior  family,  except  that  invidious 
juxtaposition.  It  was  therefore  a  sound  choice,  if 
it  was  nothing  more. 

Yet  Ralph  became  a  company  officer  without 
getting  engaged  even  to  Nan  Merridew.  Some 
said  she  had  refused  him.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Devenish 
could  afford  to  smile.  Nevertheless,  the  attachment 
became  obvious  on  his  side  and  not  on  hers.  Then 
Ralph  had  an  illness  at  Portman  Street ;  it  devel- 
oped into  a  malignant  typhus  which  nearly  killed 
him ;  and  the  shattered  officer  was  given  a  year's 
leave  in  which  to  recruit  from  the  day  he  got  about 
again.  It  seemed  certain  that  this  episode  would 
bring  matters  to  a  crisis ;  and  when  the  convales- 
cent was  ordered  a  health  voyage  in  one  of  the 
firm's  vessels,  and  Mr.  and  Miss  Merridew  accom- 
panied him,  it  was  quite  understood  that  the 


124  DENIS    DENT 

engagement  would  be  announced  on  their  re- 
turn. 

Nan  alone  did  not  so  understand  it ;  and  in  ex- 
ceptional circumstances  already  set  forth,  her  father 
was  the  next  to  relinquish  an  idea  which  he  had 
cherished  as  much  as  anybody.  Devenish,  how- 
ever, was  naturally  no  prey  to  the  sentiment  to 
which  he  attributed  his  reverse  in  one  quarter  and 
its  acceptance  in  the  other.  He  had  never  regarded 
it  as  a  defeat,  and  he  was  certainly  not  the  man  to 
do  so  as  he  saw  the  last  of  Denis  against  an  Austra- 
lian sky  from  the  Memnon's  poop.  On  the  con- 
trary, the  gallant  Ralph  had  never  been  nearly  so 
much  in  love  as  with  the  ardent  and  disheveled 
girl,  nobly  careless  of  appearances,  who  wept  and 
waved  within  a  few  feet  of  him  until  the  last. 

His  tact,  however,  was  not  equal  to  his  passion, 
and  it  was  a  breach  of  tact  that  sent  Ralph  Deven- 
ish ashore  with  the  pilot. 

"  Ah,  well ! "  he  had  said  at  last.  "  He  has  the 
best  of  it,  after  all ! " 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  cried  Nan,  as  she  turned 
on  him  with  fiery  tears,  but  not  one  in  her 
voice. 

"  He  has  all  the  fun  of  the  fair,"  replied  Deven- 
ish, lightly.  "  They  say  it 's  the  biggest  fair  ever 
held  on  earth." 

"  You  mean  the  gold-fields,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"Yes.  I  shouldn't  blame  him  for  wanting  to 
have  his  fling  on  them." 


THE    ENEMY'S    CAMP      125 

"  I  do  n't  understand  you,"  said  the  girl,  very 
coldly.  "  Pray  who  is  blaming  him  ?  " 

"  Well,  Dent  is  rather  in  Mr.  Merridew's  bad 
books  for  insisting  on  staying  out,  you  know ;  and 
I  thought  he  might  be  in  yours,  too." 

"  Did  you,  indeed  !  Then  let  me  tell  you  I  am 
proud  of  him — for  what  he  has  done,  and  for  what 
he 's  going  to  do.  But  if  he  were  here  now,  stand- 
ing in  your  shoes,  though  I  would  give  anything  to 
have  him  here,  I  should  still  be  ashamed  of  him  in 
my  heart ! " 

Devenish  winced,  and  his  dark,  clear  skin  was 
stained  a  deeper  shade;  as  for  Nan,  she  was  so 
heated  that  every  tear  had  dried  upon  her  angry 
blushes. 

"  If  you  are  thinking  of  me,"  he  said,  "  you  cer- 
tainly are  n't  thinking  of  what  you  are  saying,  or 
you  would  remember  that  a  year's  leave  is  a  year's 
leave." 

"  And  that  yours  is  n't  up  till  May,"  she  added 
with  ironic  levity.  "  It 's  no  business  of  mine,  of 
course ;  only  you  should  n't  start  comparisons  between 
the  man  who  stays  and  the  man  who  turns  back." 

"  I  am  also  in  less  need  of  money,"  he  told  her 
through  his  teeth. 

"  Money  !  "  she  cried  in  unrestrained  contempt. 
"  I  was  n't  thinking  of  the  money — I  was  thinking 
of  the  fun  and  adventure  and  romance  that  would 
have  enticed  every  man  worth  calling  a  man,  once 
he  had  got  so  far — except  you !  " 


126  DENIS    DENT 

"  From  their  sweethearts  even ! "  he  hissed  out, 
with  a  devilish  nod — "  from  the  girls  they  pretend 
they  want  to  marry !  " 

Nan  was  stung  in  her  turn;  and  hers  was  a 
poisonous  sting.  The  blood  drained  from  her  face. 
It  was  some  moments  before  she  could  speak. 

"  That  is  their  business,"  she  whispered  at  last. 
"  At  all  events  you  know  what  I  should  have 
thought  of  Denis  if  he  had  n't  stayed ;  but  if  you 
want  to  know  what  I  think  of  him  now,  you  shall." 
And  with  trembling  lips,  before  Ralph,  before  the 
man  at  the  wheel,  before  the  officer  and  the  mid- 
shipman of  the  watch,  Miss  Merridew  kissed  the 
bloodstone  signet  ring  upon  the  third  finger  of  her 
left  hand.  That  was  what  happened  on  the  Mem- 
non  while  Denis  watched  her  dipping  out  of  sight. 

What  happened  next  was  that  Devenish  nearly 
knocked  his  servant,  Jewson,  from  top  to  bottom  of 
the  companion  hatch;  the  man  just  managed  to 
clutch  the  rail,  and  was  called  roughly  into  his 
master's  cabin  forthwith. 

"Sorry  I  upset  you,  Jewson,  but  you  should 
have  got  out  of  my  way.  You  were  listening,  of 
course?" 

"  I  could  n't  help  hearing  that  last,  sir." 

"  No,  I  suppose  the  whole  ship  heard  that.  Nice, 
is  n't  it  ?  " 

"  I  know  what  I  'd  do  in  your  place,  sir." 

Devenish  looked  fiercely  into  the  cunning,  elderly 
face,  with  the  dyed  beard  and  the  foxy  eyes. 


THE    ENEMY'S    CAMP      127 

"  You  do,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I  do,  sir ;  but  do  n't  look  at  me  like  that,  Cap- 
tain Devenish,  sir,  or  I  shall  never  dare  to  tell  you. 
There 's  something  else  I  'd  as  lief  tell  you  first ;  but 
how  can  I  when  you  look  like  giving  me  a  horse- 
whipping if  I  so  much  as  open  my  mouth  ?  " 

"  Go  on,  you  old  humbug,"  said  Ralph,  relaxing 
a  little  ;  "  give  me  some  brandy  and  water,  and  let 's 
have  it." 

Jewson  gave  him  the  brandy  and  water  first. 
Ralph  took  a  gulp,  and  nodded  for  the  news. 

"  Well,  sir,  you  see  what  he  give  her  ;  but  do  you 
know  what  she  give  him  ?  "  asked  Jewson,  in  a  vile 
undertone,  half-gloating,  half-afraid. 

"No.     What?" 

"  Another  ring." 

"  He  's  not  wearing  it." 

"  That 's  just  it ;  he  is,  round  his  neck.  And 
what  do  you  suppose  he 's  wearing  it  on  ?  " 

"  Out  with  it." 

"  It 's  one  of  her  own  rings,"  said  Jewson,  bring- 
ing his  small  eyes  so  close  together  that  they  seemed 
to  touch.  "  And  he  's  wearing  it  round  his  neck  on 
a  lanyard  she  made  him  out  of  her  own  hair  !  " 

Ralph's  comment  did  him  some  credit. 

"  You  brute  ! "  he  said  at  last. 

"  Captain  Devenish,  sir,  it 's  the  four  gospels." 

"  But  you  've  been  listening  to  them  too." 

"  I  could  n't  help  it,  sir ;  really  I  could  n't.  She 
only  give  it  'im  to-day  when  he  come  aboard  to  bid 


128  DENIS    DENT 

good-bye.  They  went  into  the  after  saloon,  and  I 
was  only  in  here  with  the  door  open.  I  could  n't 
help  hearing  every  word." 

And  the  wretch  displayed  his  obvious  longing, 
with  the  cunning  light  in  the  little  eyes  and  the  grin 
amid  the  dyed  hair  on  the  wizened  face ;  but  with 
all  his  faults  Ralph  Devenish  was  still  something  of 
a  gentleman,  and,  Nan  notwithstanding,  even  more 
of  a  man. 

"  You  will  never  dare  to  repeat  one  of  them,"  said 
he.  "  If  you  ever  do,  and  I  hear  of  it,  you  will  get 
what  you  yourself  suggested  just  now.  That  '11  do, 
Jewson ;  not  another  word  about  that." 

The  old  steward  accepted  his  rebuff  with  aplomb. 

"  Very  well,  sir.  Of  course  my  feelings  ain't  like 
a  gentleman's ;  a  gentleman  would  n't  expect  it. 
But  this  I  do  promise,  never  to  tell  anybody  if  I 
do  n't  tell  you.  And  now,  sir,  I  should  like  to  tell 
you,  if  I  may  make  so  bold,  what  I  'd  do  in  your 
place." 

"  If  it  amuses  you,  by  all  means." 

"  It  does,  sir  ;  but  it  'd  amuse  me  more  if  you  'd  do 
it,  and  there  's  time  enough  still.  I  'd  take  Miss 
Merridew  at  her  word,  and  ashore  I  'd  go  with  the 
pilot,  and  to  Ballarat  by  the  first  coach ! " 

Ralph  sipped  his  brandy  on  the  settee.  It  was 
finished  before  he  spoke. 

"  I  should  never  make  my  fortune  there,"  he  said. 

"  You  might  if  you  took  me  with  you.  I  was  in 
Californy  in  'forty-nine.  And  I  'd  cook  for  ye," 


THE    ENEMY'S    CAMP      129 

added  the  steward,  his  face  shining  with  its  least 
evil  light ;  "  I  'd  cook  as  not  many  can  in  Australia, 
let  alone  the  diggings.  That 's  what  I  used  to  ship 
as ;  but  it 's  heart-breaking  work  at  sea." 

"  If  I  did  make  my  pile,"  added  Ralph,  shrewdly, 
"  it  would  n't  alter  matters  one  way  or  the  other." 

"  Perhaps  not.  But  you  'd  be  able  to  see  whether 
he  made  his  !  " 

That  was  all  Jewson  said ;  that  was  all  Devenish 
heard.  But  the  words  were  spoken  with  so  subtle 
an  intonation  that  the  tantalizing  prospect  held  out 
sounded  the  most  solid  satisfaction  in  the  world ; 
and  they  turned  the  scale.  Captain  Devenish's 
portmanteaux  were  not  even  unstrapped ;  within  a 
few  hours  he  had  bag  and  baggage  aboard  the  pilot's 
cutter,  with  Nan's  last  ironic  wishes  ringing  un- 
kindly in  his  ears,  and  the  chief  steward  of  the 
North  Foreland,  whom  the  second  mate  had  been 
instrumental  in  disrating,  at  his  elbow.  The  next 
day  but  one  they  passed  Denis  and  his  companions 
on  the  Ballarat  Road,  and  had  pegged  out  a  claim 
in  the  palpitating  heart  of  the  Gravel  Pits  before  the 
week  was  out. 

The  encounter  in  the  crowded  tent  was  not  a  sol- 
itary experience  of  the  kind  in  Ralph's  case ;  being 
a  public-school  boy,  he  had  not  been  an  hour  on  the 
diggings  before  he  recognized  an  old  schoolfellow. 
It  was,  indeed,  the  old  schoolfellow  who  first  recog- 
nized Ralph  Devenish ;  but  that  was  not  Ralph's 
fault.  Nigger  Rackham  was  the  very  fellow  whom 


130  DENIS    DENT 

his  old  friends  would  have  expected  to  find  up  to 
the  bare  neck  in  wash-dirt,  but  perhaps  the  last 
whom  they  would  have  looked  for  in  spruce  uni- 
form at  the  head  of  a  jingling  mob  of  mounted 
troopers.  He  came  of  an  old  West  Indian  stock, 
thickly  tinctured  with  native  blood,  and  had  been 
expelled  from  school  for  a  hearty,  natural  black- 
guard who  was  only  good  at  games.  His  present 
employment  suggested  extensive  reformation,  but 
that  impression  was  soon  removed  over  a  bottle  of 
brandy  in  Rackham's  tent,  and  the  pair  cracked 
another  in  Ralph's  on  the  Saturday  night. 

"  You  ought  to  join  us,"  says  Rackham.  "  Talk 
of  me  being  out  of  my  element !  I  'm  more  in  mine 
than  ever  you  '11  be  in  yours  as  a  licensed  miner. 
You  've  neither  the  turn  nor  the  patience,  as  I 
remember  you ;  and  what  do  you  want  with  a  few 
extra  thousand,  which  is  all  you  '11  make  with  the 
luck  of  the  devil  ?  " 

"  They  will  come  in  very  useful  when  I  get  back 
to  town.  You  breathe  money  in  the  Guards,  Nig- 
ger." 

"  But  you  won't  make  enough  to  feel  the  differ- 
ence. I  know  you  won't.  You  're  not  the  sort. 
Whereas,  if  you  were  to  join  us,  I  could  promise 
you  the  best  sport  on  earth,  better  than  fox-hunting, 
and  plenty  of  it." 

"  What 's  that,  Nigger  ?  " 

"  Digger-hunting  ! "  says  Rackham,  his  white 
teeth  gleaming  in  a  grin,  his  bright  eyes  brighter 


THE    ENEMY'S    CAMP      131 

than  ever  in  his  cups.  "  You  look  upset :  we  won't 
hunt  you ;  but  you  want  to  be  one  of  them,  and  I 
want  you  to  be  one  of  us." 

"  But  how  and  why  do  you  hunt  them,  Nigger  ?  " 

"  To  see  their  licenses ;  half  of  them  do  n't  take 

a  license  out ;  you  did,  because  your  man  knows 

the  ropes.     But  of  course  I  would  n't  have  let  an 

old  chum  get  into  trouble." 

"  But  what  trouble  can  it  get  you  into  ?  " 
"  If  you  're  caught  digging  without  a  license  on 
you,  whether  you  have  it  elsewhere  or  no," 
said  Rackham,  with  a  gleam  and  a  glitter  from  his 
negroid  teeth  and  eyes, "  you  may  get  run  down  and 
run  in,  and  shut  up  in  the  Logs  till  all 's  blue.  The 
Logs  is  the  camp  lock-up.  You  sha'  n't  see  the  in- 
side of  'em — unless  you  want,  out  of  curiosity — but 
that 's  what  happens  to  the  ordinary  digger-devil. 
I  Ve  had  a  fine  fellow  chained  up  to  a  tree  all  night 
for  his  cheek.  I  rather  like  'em  like  that.  But 
when  they  do  n't  go  to  ground  in  their  claims,  and 
break  for  the  bush  with  you  after  them,  boot  and  sad- 
dle, spurs  and  sabre,  then  you  know  what  hunting  is !  " 
"  It  seems  a  bit  unfair,"  said  Devenish,  blowing  a 
reflective  cloud  from  the  Turk's  head. 

"  Unfair  as  you  like,"  says  Rackham  under  his 
breath,  "  but  the  best  fun  going  !  I  'd  rather  put  up 
one  well- nourished  digger  than  all  the  foxes  in 
Leicestershire;  but  there  you  are,  and  now  you 
know,  not  that  it  applies  to  you ;  only,  if  you  should 
happen  to  make  any  enemies  (and  they  're  a  pre- 


132  DENIS    DENT 

cious  rough  crowd  to  do  with),  you  pass  the  word 
and  I  '11  do  the  rest  for  the  sake  of  old  times." 

Devenish  coloured  a  little,  and  looked  to  see 
whether  Jewson  was  within  earshot  outside  the 
tent ;  and  he  was  ;  but  just  then  a  diversion  was 
caused  by  a  pistol-shot  in  the  distance,  then  another, 
and  then  so  many  more,  both  far  and  near,  that  it 
was  as  though  battle  and  murder  were  taking  place 
on  no  small  scale. 

"  You  'd  better  empty  yours,  too,"  said  Rackham, 
pointing  to  Ralph's  revolver  in  answer  to  his  look. 
"  Some  do  it  most  nights,  but  every  mother's  son 
does  it  on  Saturday  night,  to  load  up  again  and 
start  the  week  with  fresh  powder  and  shot.  Now 's 
your  time,  old  fellow,  while  the  night 's  young  and 
your  hand  steady ;  then  fill  up  my  can,  for  to-mor- 
row 's  the  Day  of  Rest !  " 

The  brandy  had  been  obtained  at  a  sovereign  the 
bottle  from  one  of  the  numerous  sly-grog  tents  at 
which  a  digger-hunting  constabulary  was  delighted 
to  wink.  But  neither  Devenish  nor  Rackham  was 
a  drunkard ;  they  were  merely  congenial  and  con- 
vivial spirits  whose  incongruous  environment  pro- 
moted a  mutual  warmth.  And  the  guardsman's 
contribution  to  the  common  fusillade,  which  still 
continued,  was  heard  with  the  rest  not  a  mile  away, 
in  the  other  new  tent  on  Black  Hill  Flat,  where 
Moseley  was  making  the  like  explanations  to  his 
equally  inexperienced  comrades,  and  the  redoubtable 
Deane  and  Adams  was  duly  emptied  in  its  turn. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
THE  FIRST  CLAIM 

MOSELEY  had  amused  himself,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  his  mates,  by  pegging  out  a 
supposititious  claim,  twenty-four  feet  by 
eighteen,  just  to  let  them  see  what  they  might  ex- 
pect between  them  elsewhere.  He  was  much  as- 
tonished, and  withal  as  elated  as  his  easy  nature 
would  permit,  at  Denis's  decision  in  the  morning. 
Denis  found  the  pegs  almost  in  the  shadow  of  the 
blue  gum-tree,  beneath  which  they  had  pitched  their 
tent,  and  he  declared  that  they  could  not  possibly 
do  better.  The  tall  digger  was  duly  quoted  on  the 
possibilities  of  Black  Hill  Flat.  Its  merits  as  a  resi- 
dential quarter  were  already  obvious.  The  Tyne- 
siders'  camp  was  the  nearest,  and  it  was  not  within 
speaking  distance.  As  for  Moseley,  it  entirely 
suited  him  to  settle  down  with  the  least  trouble  and 
delay,  in  the  first  peaceful  spot ;  and  the  party  spent 
a  happy  Sunday  in  re-pitching  the  tent  and  carefully 
arranging  the  whole  encampment. 

The  day  was  an  experience  in  itself.  It  was 
kept  wonderfully  holy,  for  that  community,  in  those 
wilds.  Dent  and  Doherty  took  a  morning  walk  ;  it 
did  not  interest  Moseley,  who  had  also  volunteered 


134  DENIS    DENT 

to  cook.  But  Denis  was  much  struck  and  a  little 
touched  to  meet  the  string  of  Sunday  promenaders, 
all  in  their  best  and  cleanest,  as  at  home,  and  to 
realize  that  the  average  digger  was  a  really  law- 
abiding  creature  after  all.  Outside  every  tent  the 
Sunday  dinner  smoked  or  hissed  on  fires  all  but  in- 
visible in  the  strong  sunlight ;  one  or  two  had  been 
turned  into  canvas  church  or  chapel,  and  a  familiar 
hymn,  heard  in  passing,  was  only  the  more  moving 
for  the  gruff  voices  which  groaned  it  forth.  On 
one  point  Denis  satisfied  himself :  not  a  hand  was 
put  to  the  cradle  or  the  spade  ;  and  so  peaceful  was 
the  impression  left  in  his  heart,  that  not  even  Mose- 
ley's  cooking,  which  was  very  disappointing,  could 
spoil  an  hour  of  that  first  auspicious  Sabbath. 

The  gold  license  at  that  time  cost  thirty  shillings ; 
it  had  to  be  renewed  monthly  at  the  same  tariff,  and 
it  carried  with  it  as  many  vexatious  restrictions  as 
were  ever  put  in  print  on  document  of  the  sort. 
But  the  three  new  diggers,  who  were  the  first  to  ob- 
tain theirs  on  the  Monday  morning,  did  not  wait  to 
read  the  regulations.  Two  of  them  rushed  back 
through  the  heat  to  Black  Hill  Flat,  where  Doherty 
had  turned  the  first  sod,  and  Denis  many  more,  be- 
fore Moseley  rejoined  them  at  his  leisure. 

Rather  more  than  a  foot's  depth  of  black  soil  was 
soon  turned  up,  and  then  rather  less  than  another 
foot  of  reddish-coloured  clay,  much  harder  to  work 
upon ;  by  the  time  he  was  through  this  layer,  Denis 
perspired  freely,  and  was  inclined  to  be  irritable 


THE    FIRST    CLAIM         135 

with  Moseley,  who  was  for  "  trying  a  tub  "  already, 
and  seemed  for  once  to  have  Jimmy  with  him. 

"  The  wash-dirt 's  from  six  to  twelve  feet  down," 
Denis  objected.  "  Everybody  says  so ;  and  we  shall 
hardly  get  as  far  to-day.  Besides,  where 's  the 
cradle  to  try  your  tub  in  ?  I  thought  we  would 
pick  one  up  this  evening." 

"  We  might  have  tried  some  in  a  tin,"  said  Mose- 
ley, who,  like  many  a  mild  being,  had  no  slight  gift 
of  opposition.  "  The  way  to  paddock  is  to  keep 
on  trying  it  all  the  way  down.  That 's  what  we 
used  to  do  on  Bendigo." 

"  What 's  paddocking  ?  " 

Moseley  smiled,  though  with  perfect  amiability. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  do  n't  know  ?  " 

"  I  was  n't  on  Bendigo." 

"  Well,  it 's  the  most  superficial  form  of  surfacing. 
But  I  'm  not  set  on  it,"  added  Moseley,  with  obvious 
sincerity.  "  I  only  thought  as  it  was  cold  tack  for 
dinner,  and  three  of  us  can't  work  at  the  hole,  it 
would  be  something  for  me  to  do;  but  it  really 
does  n't  matter." 

"  My  dear  fellow,  of  course  do  as  you  like,"  urged 
Denis,  as  Moseley 's  tone  made  him  critical  of  his 
own.  "  You  're  the  experienced  man,  after  all,  and 
we  're  mates,  not  skipper  and  mate.  Try  a  tinful 
by  all  means." 

"  No ;  on  second  thoughts,  it 's  a  long  way  to  the 
water ;  but  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  might  do,"  said 
Moseley,  brightening.  "  I  might  go  and  buy  the 


136  DENIS    DENT 

Long  Tom  while  you  two  work  at  the  hole.  That 's 
a  thing  I  could  do,  for  it  won't  be  the  first  I  've 
bought." 

Denis  felt  constrained  to  consent  to  this,  but  with 
misgivings,  for  his  comrades'  notions  of  economy 
were  not  his  own.  It  was  Moseley  who  had  bought 
the  pick  and  shovel,  of  their  neighbours  from  New- 
castle, with  other  articles  of  which  the  Tynesiders 
had  duplicates,  on  the  Saturday  night,  when,  for  all 
he  knew,  Denis  might  have  returned  with  those  very- 
purchases ;  and  the  canny  north-countrymen  had 
found  a  customer  after  their  own  shrewd  hearts. 
Now  the  fellow  said  he  would  not  be  gone  an  hour, 
which  augured  another  incontinent  bargain ;  and 
Denis  dug  on  grimly  into  an  eighteen-inch  layer  of 
stones  and  sand.  He  was  not  particularly  pleased 
with  Jimmy  either ;  the  little  fool  had  looked  so 
confoundedly  eager  at  the  prospect  of  a  premature 
test,  so  ridiculously  disappointed  when  Denis 
put  his  foot  on  it.  However,  he  had  not  said  a 
word,  nor  did  he  now  that  they  were  alone,  which 
was  more  unusual.  He  merely  looked  on  rather 
wistfully,  because  Denis  would  do  all  the  work ;  but 
presently  he  began  looking  even  more  wistfully  to- 
ward the  tent ;  for  a  long  hour  had  doubled  itself, 
and  still  Moseley  did  not  return,  and  still  Denis 
wielded  pick  and  shovel  by  untiring  turns. 

At  last  came  Moseley,  strolling  with  a  huge 
cigar,  and  a  box  of  them  under  one  arm,  but  no 
cradle. 


THE    FIRST    CLAIM         137 

"  I've  got  it,"  said  he.  "  It'll  be  here  directly; 
a  couple  of  Chinamen  are  bringing  it  slung  on  a 
bamboo  pole.  I  got  it  you  for  thirty  bob.  But 
look  here  what  I  have  brought — a  box  of  the  best 
— but  they  're  out  of  my  private  pocket,  and  better 
not  ask  the  price." 

That  day  they  got  down  four  or  five  feet,  and 
tried  two  or  three  tubs  toward  evening,  walking 
over  half  a  mile  with  each,  first  and  last,  and  ex- 
tracting altogether  one  pennyweight  of  gold 
precisely,  or  about  four  shillings  sterling.  And 
the  expenses  of  the  party  to  this  date  were 
£18  IDS. 

The  first  week's  record  was  bad  enough  to  make 
them  laugh  and  too  bad  to  continue.  Washing 
everything  after  the  second  day,  they  had  exactly 
half  an  ounce  of  gold  dust  by  next  Saturday  night, 
while  their  further  expenses  amounted  to  several 
pounds.  Everything  but  meat  was  at  a  fancy  price, 
and  in  the  beginning  some  new  appliance  was 
wanted  every  day.  Denis  held  out  against  the 
dearer  items  as  long  as  he  could  in  decency,  but  it 
did  not  grow  easier  to  restrict  the  partner  who  had 
contributed  the  lion's  share  of  capital.  The  second 
week  realized  three  ounces  (£12  is.  6d.),  and  cost  less, 
though  Moseley  insisted  on  laying  in  fifty  pounds  of 
flour  as  a  bargain  for  £2  153.  Denis  for  one,  however, 
refused  to  be  comforted  by  the  second  week.  It 
was  not  bad,  but  to  him  a  total  and  immediate  fail- 
ure would  have  been  more  acceptable  than  the 


138  DENIS    DENT 

prospect  of  a  run  of  such  insignificant  success. 
The  second  week  raised  neither  high  hopes  nor  a 
laugh;  the  third  began  better,  with  an  ounce  on 
the  Monday,  but  dropped  at  once  to  three  or  four 
pennyweight  a  day.  This  was  worse  than  Moseley 
had  done  on  Bendigo,  and  he  was  soon  advocating 
a  new  claim  on  some  lead  that  held  good  to  the 
water's  edge  ;  but  Denis  was  not  so  readily  deterred, 
much  less  since  at  the  outset  he  had  invented  a  con- 
trivance which  reduced  to  a  minimum  the  natural 
disadvantages  of  the  flat,  in  the  shape  of  a  hand-bar- 
row to  hold  as  much  wash-dirt  as  half-a-dozen  tubs, 
and  so  save  as  many  journeys  to  and  from  the  river. 
It  was  only  a  couple  of  saplings  with  a  few  feet  of 
canvas  nailed  across,  which  it  took  two  to  carry 
when  full,  but  nobody  happened  to  have  thought  of 
it  before,  and  it  was  a  success  when  nothing  else 
succeeded. 

These  beginners  had  begun  badly  in  every  other 
way.  There  was  really  nothing  romantic  in  the  life 
as  they  found  it.  It  was  only  fascinating  to  the 
spectator,  or  to  the  exceptionally  successful  per- 
former. They  had  ceased  to  be  spectators  with  the 
turning  of  their  own  first  sod.  There  were  many 
discomforts  in  the  life.  Moseley  was  quite  an  in- 
famous cook,  yet  it  was  the  one  direction  in  which 
he  exerted  himself  at  all.  He  was  still  rather  amus- 
ing, and  would  have  been  a  capital  companion  in 
triumphant  times,  but  Denis  was  no  longer  easily 
amused.  Doherty  was  also  disappointing ;  he  had 


THE    FIRST    CLAIM         139 

not  been  the  same  bright  boy  since  Canvas  Town. 
Denis  himself  was  seen  to  have  a  temper,  and  not 
unknown  to  lose  it ;  but  they  had  drifted  into  a  belt 
of  unromantic  experience  not  innocent  of  the 
actively  abominable.  One  morning  Denis  woke 
itching ;  and  in  the  leaden  light  he  thought  it  was 
oatmeal  on  the  rolled  blanket  which  was  his  only 
pillow ;  but  minute  movements  betrayed  a  nauseating 
form  of  life ;  in  a  word,  the  whole  of  his  scanty  bed- 
clothes were  most  thoroughly  fly-blown.  The  day 
went  in  boiling  them  in  salt  and  water,  which  car- 
ried the  offense  to  heaven,  and  during  this  horrid 
task  Denis  did  talk  of  pastures  new,  which  Moseley 
at  once  went  to  seek.  After  a  discreet  interval  he 
returned  with  glowing  accounts  of  a  disused  hole 
near  at  hand  on  the  Native  Youth,  and  before  sun- 
down the  three  started  off  with  ropes  and  spars  to 
place  across  the  top  for  a  preliminary  descent; 
luckily  one  of  them  threw  down  a  log  to  stand  on, 
the  bottom  being  under  water ;  for  in  another  in- 
stant the  pit  was  more  alive  than  Denis's  blankets, 
but  with  writhing  bodies  and  red  eyes  enough  to 
furnish  forth  a  reptile  house.  Denis  cut  a  slip  from 
one  of  the  spars,  penciled  the  word  SNAKES  on 
both  sides,  and  planted  it  like  a  rose-label  as  close 
as  possible  to  the  brink  of  this  dreadful  hole.  Nor 
was  the  unfortunate  day  complete  until  they  had 
tried  a  tub  at  the  old  place  without  getting  a  grain. 
It  was  the  twelfth  of  November — in  all  fitness  a  Fri- 
day— and  this  is  its  candid  record. 


140  DENIS    DENT 

Moseley  began  to  talk  seriously  of  throwing  the 
whole  thing  up.  It  was  plain  that  he  regretted  his 
second  innings  on  the  gold-fields,  yet  he  was  not  the 
man  to  desert  his  mates,  and  this  soon  became  the 
greatest  embarrassment  of  all.  There  was  much 
that  was  lovable  in  Moseley.  He  was  the  cheeriest 
member  of  the  party,  and  in  happier  circumstances 
might  have  been  its  life  and  soul.  As  it  was,  some 
ready  conceit  would  often  turn  aside  that  wrath 
which  indolence  and  inefficiency  were  peculiarly 
calculated  to  excite  in  Denis ;  yet  Moseley  was  nat- 
urally indolent,  and  his  inefficiency  seemed  nothing 
less  than  catholic.  He  might  have  been  a  genius, 
but  if  so  it  was  at  nothing  that  counted  on  the  dig- 
gings. There  he  was  unstable,  indecisive,  happy- 
go-lucky,  a  trifler,  a  procrastinator ;  hopelessly  un- 
practical himself,  and  what  was  much  more  tire- 
some, a  consistent  caviller  at  the  practical  in  others. 
His  equally  consistent  good-humour  was  his  saving 
merit ;  it  also  made  him  in  a  sense  incorrigible,  for 
one  must  be  more  of  a  brute  than  Denis  could  ever 
have  been  to  blame  with  any  bitterness  a  man  who 
was  at  all  times  unaffectedly  prepared  to  blame  him- 
self. There  was,  however,  one  occasion  upon  which 
even  Denis  felt  inclined  to  say  exactly  what  he  felt 
and  rather  more.  He  had  at  last  written  a  letter, 
and  on  returning  from  the  creek  with  Doherty,  had 
found  it  gone  from  the  rack  which  a  few  stitches 
had  made  in  the  canvas  over  the  place  where  he 
laid  his  head. 


THE    FIRST    CLAIM         141 

"  Where  's  my  letter  ?  "  he  asked  at  once.  His 
tanned  face  was  pale  as  well  as  blank. 

"  It 's  gone,"  replied  Moseley,  with  a  reassuring 
nod. 

"  Gone  !     Who  sent  it  ?  " 

"  I  did,  with  one  of  my  own.  I  say,  I  hope  I 
have  n't  done  wrong,  Dent  ?  It 's  English  mail  day, 
you  know,  and  I  thought  you  'd  forgotten  it." 

"  I  knocked  off  early  on  purpose  to  take  it  my- 
self." 

"  I  'm  awfully  sorry,  Dent,  but  I  happened  to  see 
that  it  was  already  stamped." 

"  It 's  all  right,  Moseley,"  said  Denis,  conquering 
his  displeasure,  "  and  of  course  I  'm  really  very 
much  obliged  to  you,  though  I  came  back  on  pur- 
pose to  post  it  myself.  It  was  very  good  of  you  to 
trouble." 

Moseley  was  beginning  to  look  embarrassed,  and 
not  merely  because  he  had  meant  well  and  done  ill. 
He  had  not  taken  so  very  much  trouble  after  all, 
and  he  was  too  good  a  fellow  to  retain  more  credit 
than  his  due. 

"There  was  an  old  soldier  came  along,"  said 
Moseley,  colouring :  "  not  a  bad  old  chap,  but  a  bit 
of  a  gossip;  he  had  a  look  down  the  hole,  and 
asked  how  we  were  doing,  and  drank  a  pannikin 
of  tea.  As  he  was  going  to  the  post-office,  and 
offered  to  post  my  letter  for  me,  I  let  him  take  them 
both." 

Denis  could  hardly  believe  his  ears. 


142  DENIS    DENT 

"  You  gave  my  letter  to  a  strange  digger  ?  " 

"  And  my  own  with  it,  Dent." 

"  A  man  you  'd  never  set  eyes  on  before  ?  " 

"  I  certainly  never  had  ;  but  we  had  quite  a  long 
chat  first,  and  he  seemed  a  decent  soul  enough.  I 
saw  no  reason  to  distrust  him,  at  any  rate.  I  know 
what  you  're  saying  to  yourself,"  added  Moseley,  as 
Denis  smiled  sardonically ;  "  but  I  've  been  more 
careful  since  the  lesson  I  had  the  night  we  met. 
Even  if  I  'm  still  the  worst  judge  of  character  in 
the  world,  what  object  could  anybody  have  in 
tampering  with  simple  letters  like  ours  ?  " 

The  ingenuous  question  gave  Denis  an  idea. 

"  What  was  the  fellow  like — to  look  at  ?  "  he 
asked  in  his  turn. 

"  Oh,  just  a  respectable  elderly  man,  not  much 
of  the  old  soldier  about  him,  but  the  diggings  must 
be  crawling  with  them,  and  how  many  look  the 
part  ?  " 

"  Then  how  do  you  know  he  was  one  ?  " 

"  He  told  me,  of  course." 

"  Had  he  a  beard  ?  " 

"  That  goes  without  saying."  Moseley  and  Denis 
were  each  growing  one. 

"  But  was  his  beard  dyed  ?  " 

"  No — gray." 

"  It  should  be  gray,"  said  Denis,  grimly.  "  Did 
he  tell  you  which  diggings  he  came  from  ?  " 

"  Sailor's  Gully." 

Denis  breathed  again.     He  knew  that  Devenish 


THE    FIRST    CLAIM         143 

and  Jewson  were  at  the  Gravel  Pits.  He  had  really 
no  reason  to  connect  the  man  who  had  taken  the 
letters  with  the  man  whom  he  had  in  mind ;  and 
further  questioning  finally  relieved  him  of  the  idea, 
partly  because  Moseley  was  unconsciously  anxious 
to  make  the  best  of  his  emissary.  But  the  alterca- 
tion had  stirred  the  emotions  of  both  young  men  ; 
neither  spoke  in  his  natural  voice ;  each  resembled 
an  unpleasing  portrait  of  himself.  So  much  had 
been  said,  however,  that  it  was  an  opportunity  for 
saying  more. 

"  You  know,  Dent,"  Moseley  went  on,  "  I  've  had 
enough  of  the  whole  thing.  I  made  a  mistake  when 
I  turned  back  with  you,  instead  of  taking  the  first 
ship  home  as  I  had  intended." 

Denis  said  nothing.  The  sentiment  expressed 
was  too  identical  with  his  own.  Doherty  reduced 
the  considerate  distance  to  which  he  had  withdrawn, 
and  there  was  no  doubt  he  was  beginning  to  listen. 

"  But  I  had  n't  written  to  say  I  was  going  home," 
continued  Moseley,  "  so  I  'm  expecting  my  money 
at  Christmas.  It  won't  be  much — thirty  pounds — 
but  it 's  sure.  You  see,  my  father  was  n't  so  san- 
guine as  I  was  when  I  came  out,  and  he's  allowing 
me  sixty  pounds  a  year." 

Moseley  smiled  a  little  sadly.  Doherty  drew  a 
few  steps  nearer.  Denis  had  become  a  picturesque 
study  in  sympathy,  framed  in  the  opening  of  the 
tent. 

"  I  wish   I   could   persuade  you  to  come  home 


144  DENIS    DENT 

with  me  after  Christmas  !  "  said  Moseley,  wistfully 
enough. 

Doherty  looked  tragically  at  Denis,  but  could 
have  flung  up  his  wide-awake  at  the  way  Denis 
shook  his  head  without  a  word. 

"  Then  I  '11  be  shot  if  I  go  either  !  "  cried  Mose- 
ley, with  a  noble  tremor  in  his  voice. 

"  My  dear  fellow !  "  urged  Denis,  while  Doherty 
spun  round  on  his  heel. 

"  No,"  said  Moseley,  "  you  stood  by  me,  and  I  '11 
stand  by  you  as  long  as  you  stay  on  Ballarat.  It 's 
no  use  talking,  because  I  won't  listen  to  a  word. 
You  went  through  fire  for  me,  Dent — you  both  did 
— and  I  "d  go  through  fire  and  water  for  you  !  And 
look  here,  Dent,  I  '11  never  do  another  silly  thing, 
and  1 11  work  harder  and  cook  better — you  mark 
my  words  !  " 

They  were  such  as  neither  listener  had  ever 
heard  from  him  before;  but,  Doherty  was  no 
longer  listening  with  any  interest,  and  Denis  was 
too  much  affected  to  perceive  that  the  humourist  of 
the  party  was  surpassing  himself  when  least  intend- 
ing it.  All  he  could  do  was  to  drop  his  two  hands 
on  Moseley's  shoulders,  and  shake  him  affection- 
ately until  the  fellow  smiled. 

"  But  what  about  the  thirty  pounds,  when  it 
comes  ?  "  asked  Denis,  with  presence  of  mind  and 
some  sudden  eagerness. 

Moseley's  face  lit  up  with  the  sacred  flame  of 
loyalty. 


THE    FIRST    CLAIM        145 

"  It  goes  into  the  Company ! "  said  he.  "  I  '11 
back  you  with  my  last  stiver  as  long  as  you  stay  on 
Ballarat ! " 


CHAPTER  XV 
A  PIOUS  FRAUD 

SO  the  little  Company  continued  its  existence, 
and  on  Black  Hill  Flat,  because  Denis  was 
more  and  more  against  sinking  a  second  hole 
until  there  was  no  more  gold  to  be  got  out  of  the 
first.  It  was  like  his  thoroughness  and  tenacity  of 
character,  but  was  inconsistent  with  his  original  at- 
titude as  a  digger.  A  moderate  success  was  of  no 
use  to  him ;  it  must  be  a  small  fortune,  or  it  might 
as  well  be  nothing  at  all.  So  it  had  been  in  the 
beginning,  and  it  was  obviously  still  the  case.  Yet 
there  was  no  shifting  Denis  while  there  was  a 
pennyweight  to  the  tub,  and  once  there  was  nearly 
an  ounce,  and  one  day  in  November  yielded  two 
ounces  four  pennyweight.  He  was  further  fortified 
by  the  opinion  of  one  whom  he  instinctively  re- 
garded as  an  expert.  Passing  with  Moseley  through 
Rotten  Gully,  on  the  Old  Eureka  Lead,  to  look  at 
one  of  the  many  sites  which  his  companion  fancied 
in  these  days,  Denis  became  much  more  interested 
in  a  very  well-built  hut  in  juxtaposition  to  an  evi- 
dently deep  hole  with  a  capital  windlass  atop.  A 
fellow  with  trim  whiskers  and  an  expression  of 
splendid  disgust  was  turning  the  handle,  and  as 


A    PIOUS    FRAUD  147 

they  watched  a  very  muddy  digger  came  up  stand- 
ing in  the  pail,  from  which  he  stepped  with  as  much 
daintiness  as  a  lady  with  a  dress  to  spoil.  "  Thank 
you,"  said  this  one  in  an  off-hand  way  to  the  other, 
but  Denis  he  favoured  with  a  stare,  followed  by  the 
shortest  of  nods,  for  it  was  the  deep-sinker  who  had 
recommended  Black  Hill  Flat. 

"  Did  you  try  the  Flat  ?  "  said  he. 

"  I  've  been  trying  it  ever  since,"  returnd  Denis,  and 
soon  added  with  what  result.  He  was  furthermore 
able  to  answer  one  or  two  technical  questions  in 
such  a  way  as  to  interest  the  deep-sinker,  who 
seemed  quite  struck  with  the  simple  device  of  the 
hand-barrow. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  as  the  partners  were  taking  their 
leave,  "  I  can't  help  my  opinion,  and  I  Ve  got  it 
still.  I  believe  there 's  gold  on  Black  Hill  Flat,  and 
plenty  of  it ;  what 's  more,  it 's  the  sort  of  nice  dry 
place  where  it  should  be  pretty  near  the  surface,  if 
it 's  there  at  all.  But,  of  course,  you  might  prick 
about  for  a  year  without  finding  it.  I  'm  sorry  I 
said  so  much  about  the  place  the  other  day ;  if  I 
had  n't  I  'd  give  you  another  piece  of  advice  now, 
and  that  would  be  to  take  your  time  and  go  in  for 
deep  sinking.  You  're  too  good  a  man  for  surfac- 
ing. Good-afternoon  to  you,  and  better  luck." 
And  he  ducked  into  his  hut  with  a  last  least  nod. 

The  upshot  of  this  conversation,  and  of  another 
between  Denis  and  Moseley  upon  the  obvious  qual- 
ity of  the  deep-sinker,  was  that  Moseley  went 


148  DENIS    DENT 

"  pricking  about "  the  flat  while  Denis  persisted  in 
the  old  hole,  and  Jim  Doherty  oscillated  between 
the  pair.  Nothing  more  came  of  it.  Moseley  was 
a  poor  digger,  who  scarcely  pricked  skin-deep.  He 
soon  went  back  to  his  evil  cooking,  which,  how- 
ever, had  been  less  evil  since  the  little  scene  with 
Denis.  His  chops  oftener  hit  a  medium  between 
the  blue-raw  and  done-to-a-rag  extremes  ;  but  his 
bread  would  still  have  murdered  a  dyspeptic,  and 
the  lean  but  hungry  Doherty  was  laid  up  for  forty- 
eight  hours  after  one  of  Moseley 's  duffs.  Denis 
himself  little  knew  how  many  of  his  sleepless  nights 
he  owed  to  the  same  devastating  cause;  and  on 
Black  Hill  Flat  he  slept  the  sleep  of  the  lost. 

Early  to  bed  was  the  digger's  natural  law,  but  if 
Denis  kept  it  he  would  be  wide  awake  by  the  small- 
est hours,  and  so  lie  tossing  till  the  Flat  was  astir. 
He  found  it  a  lesser  evil  to  sit  up  late  over  a  lonely 
camp-fire,  and  beguiled  these  vigils  with  congenial 
employment.  He  was  making  a  new  map  of  the 
diggings.  This  one  was  in  ink  on  a  clean  piece  of 
cardboard  cut  to  fit  the  jacket  pocket.  It  grew  out 
of  odd  scraps  marked  in  pencil  on  Denis's  walks 
abroad ;  some  of  the  latter  were  taken  on  purpose 
during  these  very  sleepless  nights.  So  the  map 
was  his  own,  correct  or  incorrect,  and  it  was  made 
on  his  own  plan.  It  was  largely  geological.  There 
were  the  depths  of  sinkings  where  Denis  could 
ascertain  them,  and  the  various  leads  flowed  in 
rivers  of  bold  red  ink,  which  made  up  for  any  lack 


A    PIOUS    FRAUD  149 

of  academic  accuracy  by  a  rather  stimulating  appeal 
to  the  imagination.  But  that  was  to  come ;  as  yet 
it  was  a  spy's  map,  which  even  Jimmy  had  not 
seen. 

And  sometimes  when  it  had  been  put  away  for 
the  night,  and  there  was  enough  fire  still  to  kick 
into  a  redder  glow,  or  a  great  white  moon  in  the 
sky,  then  Denis  would  loosen  the  shirt  that  he  but- 
toned higher  than  most,  and  there  was  the  little 
ring  his  Nan  had  given  him,  the  red-white-and- 
blue  of  its  ruby,  diamond,  and  sapphire,  twinkling 
and  glittering  as  it  had  in  the  light  of  day  upon  her 
finger;  and  there  was  the  lanyard  of  her  beloved 
hair ;  and  it,  too,  shone  as  though  still  upon  her 
sunny  head :  and  so  he  thought  she  told  him  she 
was  well.  But  what  had  he  to  tell  her  ?  He  had 
stayed  behind  to  do  something  that  was  not  yet 
fairly  begun,  and  already  two  months  were  up. 
There  were  times  when  Denis  did  not  regret  the 
letter  which  might  never  arrive.  Its  unredeemed 
tale  had  cost  him  much  in  the  unvarnished  telling 
on  which  his  nature  insisted;  what  if  it  were  to 
cost  him  as  much  again  in  her  sight  ?  There  could 
be,  after  all,  but  one  excuse  for  his  separate  ex- 
istence at  Ballarat.  And  when  he  realized  this,  it 
was  a  hard,  dark  face  that  Denis  turned  to  great 
white  moon  or  little  red  fire ;  it  was  dark  with  dis- 
gust of  self  and  circumstance  ;  it  was  harder  than 
ever  with  a  determination  which  had  never  wavered. 

After  one  such  night  in  the  middle  of  December, 


150  DENIS    DENT 

the  beginning  of  the  end  came  quite  quietly  and 
naturally  at  the  following  evening's  meal.  Moseley 
had  received  his  remittance,  days  before  it  was  due, 
and,  as  Denis  said,  it  could  not  have  come  at  a 
better  time.  At  this  the  moneyed  partner  had 
looked  up  from  his  platter  in  somewhat  anxious 
inquiry. 

"  Because  I  'm  going  to  take  your  advice,"  ex- 
plained Denis,  "  and  give  in — and  clear  out ! " 

"  Home  to  England  ? "  cried  Moseley,  while 
Doherty  stayed  the  hand  that  held  a  loaded  fork. 

Denis  shook  his  head,  and  Moseley's  face  fell  a 
little ;  but  Doherty  sat  munching  with  a  satisfaction 
as  solid  as  the  morsel  in  his  mouth. 

"  Eureka  ?  "  inquired  Moseley,  putting  a  brave 
face  on  it. 

"  No." 

"  Canadian  Gully  ?  " 

«  No." 

"  The  Gravel  Pits  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  you." 

"  I  know  !  "  chimed  in  Doherty.  "  Sailor's 
Gully ! " 

"  No,  Jimmy." 

"  Little  Bendigo,  then  ?  " 

"  No." 

Jimmy  said  he  gave  it  up.  But  Moseley  had  an 
idea. 

"  Not  the  other  Bendigo,  Dent  ?  " 

Denis  smiled.     "  From  what  you  've  always  said," 


A    PIOUS    FRAUD  151 

he  went  on,  "  it 's  the  better  diggings  of  the 
two." 

"  I  believe  it  is,"  said  Moseley,  doubtfully. 

"  Not  quite  so  over-run  and  overdone,  you 
know." 

"  No ;  that  is  so,  I  'm  sure ;  but — but,  I  say, 
Dent,  I  do  n't  want  to  show  my  face  there  again,  I 
do  n't  really  ! "  said  Moseley,  with  a  manifold  anx- 
iety more  droll  than  he  supposed.  "  You  may 
laugh,"  he  went  on,  smiling  himself,  "  but  I  did  n't 
commit  a  crime  there,  though  you  might  think  it. 
I  did  n't  even  tell  a  lie.  But  I  did  pretend  that  I 
had  done  pretty  well.  I  let  them  think  I  was  on 
the  point  of  sailing,  cock-a-hoop,  for  England  home 
and  beauty ! " 

"  And  so  you  are,"  said  Denis  at  length.  He 
spoke  very  quietly,  but  with  a  conviction  that 
turned  Moseley's  blushes  to  an  almost  passionate 
glow.  Yet  in  an  instant  the  loyal  creature  was 
fighting  his  heart's  desire. 

"  I  do  n't  want  to  desert  you,"  he  said.  "  I  do  n't 
— and  won't !  " 

"  Then  you  keep  us  here." 

"  I  do  n't  want  to  do  that  either.  Yet  you  see 
my  position  about  Bendigo?"  And  his  troubled 
glance  included  Doherty,  whose  brown  face  was 
also  awry  with  mixed  feeling. 

"  We  see  it  perfectly,  my  dear  fellow,"  Denis  an- 
swered ;  "  and  if  we  ever  have  another  mate " 
(Doherty  looked  up  quickly),  "  may  he  be  half  as 


152  DENIS    DENT 

staunch  as  you !  We  have  done  our  best,  but  so 
far  we  Ve  made  a  mess  of  it.  You  had  had  enough 
in  October,  and  you  've  wasted  these  two  months 
on  our  account  out  of  the  sheer  goodness  of  your 
heart ;  my  dear  Moseley,  you  sha'  n't  waste  another 
week.  You  've  tried  Bendigo,  and  we  have  n't ; 
you  go  home  with  as  good  a  conscience  as  you 
leave  us,  and  in  three  or  four  months  I  shall  follow 
you." 

And  they  really  parted  in  three  or  four  days,  and 
at  a  point  not  very  much  further  than  that  from 
which  they  had  first  beheld  the  tents  and  mud-heaps 
of  Ballarat ;  only  Jimmy  looked  his  last  on  them 
with  a  sigh,  and  even  he  had  recovered  his  spirits 
when  it  came  to  clasping  hands.  But  all  three  had 
light  hearts  at  the  end,  and  shoulders  to  match ;  for 
they  had  sold  their  entire  kit  at  the  very  fair  figure 
of  £11  $s.  They  had  also  cash  in  hand  to  the  tune 
of  £2  us.  6d.,  so  that  the  Bendigonians  had  nearly 
£10  as  their  share,  to  take  with  them  to  the  new 
field,  but  as  Denis  said,  at  least  a  hundred  pounds' 
worth  of  experience  to  put  to  it.  He  it  was  who 
had  kept  the  accounts,  all  through,  and  he  who 
would  not  hear  of  Moseley's  generous  but  unfair 
proposals  at  the  end.  It  may  be  added  that  the 
Company's  debt  to  the  latter  had  been  duly,  if  not 
forcibly,  discharged ;  but  after  all,  they  had  taken 
some  thirteen  ounces  of  gold  out  of  the  maligned 
hole  on  Black  Hill  Flat,  and  sold  the  same  for  over 


A    PIOUS    FRAUD  153 

Denis  and  Jim  stood  without  speaking  while 
Moseley  hurried  away  from  them  down  the  Mel- 
bourne road ;  but  it  may  have  been  that  their  hands 
ached  more  from  his  than  did  their  hearts.  When 
he  had  waved  his  wideawake  at  the  bend,  and  they 
theirs  for  the  last  time,  it  is  certain  that  from  that 
moment  the  original  pair  were  more  to  each  other 
than  they  had  been  for  two  wearisome  months. 
They  had  almost  as  much  to  say  as  if  they  had  been 
separated  for  the  same  period.  But  it  was  not 
Moseley  that  they  discussed ;  it  was  their  own  new 
prospects,  ways,  and  means.  Nor  had  Denis  long 
to  wait  for  Mr.  Doherty's  earlier  manner,  which  got 
up  like  a  breeze  in  the  free  expression  of  his  opin- 
ion that  ten  pounds  was  not  enough  to  "  see  "  them 
to  Bendigo,  "  let  alone  starting  of  us  when  we  gets 
there." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  n't,"  said  Denis,  slackening  a  stride 
which  had  lacked  something  since  the  parting  of  the 
ways.  "  Let 's  sit  down  under  that  gum-tree  and 
talk  about  it.  If  you  are  right,"  continued  Denis, 
paring  a  slab  of  tobacco  when  they  were  duly 
seated,  "  it  might  be  better  to  turn  back  to  Dallarat 
instead  of  going  on  to  Bendigo." 

The  matter-of-fact  tone  in  which  Denis  made  this 
startling  suggestion  betrayed  him  to  Doherty  with- 
out more  ado.  "  You  meant  to  do  it  all  along ! " 
said  he. 

"  It  was  the  only  way  to  do  it,"  returned  Denis, 
rubbing  his  tobacco  between  both  palms,  "  without 


154  DENIS    DENT 

hurting  anybody's  feelings.  Now  he  need  never 
know.  He  had  a  heart  of  gold,  Jimmy,  but  it  was 
the  only  kind  we  should  have  got  with  him ;  and 
that 's  the  last  word  about  him  now  he  's  gone,  poor 
chap  !  Back  he  goes  to  Silly  Suffolk,  and  back  we 
go  to  Ballarat  with  nine-pound-three  between  us  ! 
But  no  more  nice  dry  games  on  Black  Hill  Flat,  or 
anywhere  else  where  the  chances  are  big  and  the 
certainties  next  to  nothing ;  we  're  going  to  sink 
deep  and  wet  and  dirty,  Jimmy  ;  and  we  're  not  go- 
ing to  sink  on  chance  again." 

Jimmy's  eyes  were  wide  open  in  all  senses  at 
once. 

"  Sink  deep  on  nine-pound-three,  mister  ?  And 
you  've  been  studyin'  the  'ole  game  all  this  time  ?  " 

"  There 's  this,"  said  Denis,  producing  Bullocky's 
nugget.  "  I  believe  you  still  have  its  fellow." 

"  And  many 's  the  time  I  've  thought  of  it,"  cried 
Jimmy  ;  "  but  you  said  we  was  to  keep  them  for- 
ever— for  luck !  " 

"  A  lot  of  luck  they  've  brought  us,"  said  Denis  ; 
"  on  the  other  hand,  I  Ve  learned  a  lot  since  then, 
and  even  now  I  do  n't  propose  to  part  with  them 
altogether.  No,  but  since  the  devil  drives  we  must 
raise  our  fresh  capital  on  them,  and  so  let  them 
bring  us  luck  after  all.  If  they  do  we  can  soon  re- 
deem them ;  and  I  mean  them  to,  Jimmy,  this  time. 
Come  a  bit  nearer  :  I  Ve  something  to  show  you," 
continued  Denis,  drawing  out  his  new  map.  "  I  Ve 
made  this  at  odd  times,  some  of  it  when  you  and 


A    PIOUS    FRAUD  155 

Moseley  were  fast  asleep.  I  do  n't  say  it 's  accurate, 
but  it 's  given  me  a  better  grasp  of  the  diggings  as 
a  whole  than  ever  I  had  before,  and  I  should  like  it 
to  do  the  same  for  you.  You  see  the  double  lines 
straggling  from  top  to  bottom  like  a  bit  of  loose 
tape?" 

«  Yes." 

"  That 's  the  Yarrowee." 

"  And  the  little  squares  sprinkled  all  over  ?  " 

"  Fancy  tents." 

"  And  the  blots  in  between  ?  " 

"  The  holes  belonging  to  them." 

"  And  the  centipedes,  or  whatever  they  are  ?  " 

"The  Seven  Hills  of  Ballarat,  Jimmy!  Bakery 
Hill,  Specimen  Hill,  and  all  the  rest." 

"  And  the  hanks  of  red  ink  in  between  the  hills, 
twisting  all  over  the  place,  under  half  the  tents  and 
holes ;  you  must  have  put  'em  in  first,  mister ;  they 
look  like  rivers  of  blood.  I  'm  blessed  if  I  know 
what  else  they  do  look  like ! " 

"  They  're  rivers  of  gold,  Jimmy,  and  I  did  put 
them  in  first." 

Jimmy  looked  up  very  quizzically,  for,  of  course,  he 
felt  he  was  being  quizzed,  and  made  a  scathing  in- 
quiry as  to  the  green  that  was  or  was  not  in  his  pierc- 
ing eye.  But  Denis  swore  to  his  golden  rivers,  and 
then  admitted  they  were  underground,  which  height- 
ened Jimmy's  interest  while  it  restored  his  faith. 

"  They  're  the  leads,  of  course,"  continued  Denis  ; 
"  and  the  leads  are  neither  more  nor  less  than  rivers 


156  DENIS    DENT 

of  gold,  flowing  on  the  bed-rock  at  heights  varying 
with  its  height,  or,  if  you  like,  frozen  where  they 
flowed  a  million  years  ago.  On  the  whole  they  flow 
thin,  and  you  only  get  so  much  to  the  tub ;  but  like 
other  rivers  they  have  their  thicker  backwaters,  and 
here  and  there  their  absolutely  stagnant  pools ;  those 
are  their  '  pockets '  and  their  '  jewelers'  shops,'  as 
they  call  them — and  as  we  shall  call  ours  one  of 
these  days.  But  it  will  take  time,  Jimmy,  perhaps 
weeks  and  months,  before  we  sink  deep  enough  to 
begin  driving  right  and  left  as  all  the  deep  sinkers 
do.  If  it  was  n't  for  that  I  should  have  shown 
Moseley  my  hand.  He  never  could  have  held  out, 
and  he  would  have  hindered  us  who  can  and  will. 
He  was  longing  to  go,  and  he  may  be  back  in  Silly 
Suffolk  before  we  get  down  deep  enough  to  do  much 
good." 

Doherty  began  to  feel  consoled  for  a  prospect 
which  could  not  but  chill  his  younger  blood  a  little. 
He  did  not  wish  to  be  months  in  getting  to  the 
gold ;  at  any  rate  he  would  have  preferred  not  to 
know  that  they  might  be  months ;  but  still  less  did 
he  want  Moseley  back.  He  was  content  therefore 
to  inquire  how  Denis  could  know  before  he  went 
to  work  that  he  was  sinking  in  the  right  place. 
And  in  a  moment  their  heads  were  together  again 
over  the  map. 

"  You  remember  what  the  squares  and  blots 
are  ?  " 

"  Tents  and  holes." 


A    PIOUS    FRAUD  157 

"  Then  do  n't  you  see  how  they  follow  and  fill 
the  red  rivers  ?  " 

"  There 's  nothing  else  from  bank  to  bank." 

"  Well,  we  've  only  got  to  squeeze  in  between 
any  of  them,  on  the  lead  we  decide  on,  say  Eureka, 
or  Sailor's  Gully,  wherever  there  's  room  to  peg  out 
a  claim  and  pitch  a  tent.  Now  look  up  to  the  top 
of  the  map,  and  tell  me  if  you  see  that  square  and 
blot  all  by  themselves." 

"  I  see  them." 

"  High  and  dry  on  the  banks  of  one  red  river,  in- 
stead of  on  the  river  itself? " 

«  Yes." 

"  That  was  our  old  claim." 


CHAPTER  XVI 
A  WINDFALL 

THE  pair  had  passed  the  place  where  they 
had  waved  farewell  to  Moseley,  and  were  in 
sound  but  not  quite  in  sight  of  all  that  one 
of  them  had  never  expected  to  see  or  to  hear  again, 
when  a  voice  hailed  them  in  the  rear,  and  they 
found  that  a  buggy  and  pair  had  crept  upon  them 
while  they  talked.  Doherty  was  filled  with  appre- 
hension. He  had  not  been  so  happy  for  two 
months.  But  Denis  was  much  interested  in  the 
driver  of  the  buggy,  who  drove  alone,  and  who 
looked  as  though  he  might  have  been  got  up  in 
Bedford  Row,  what  with  his  black  silk  stock,  his 
high  hat  still  shining  through  its  layer  of  yellow 
dust,  and  his  spectacled  face  clean-shaven  to  the 
lips. 

"  May  I  ask  if  you  are  Ballarat  diggers,"  said  he, 
"  or  new  arrivals  like  myself? " 

"  We  are  diggers,"  replied  Denis,  "  and  Ballarat 's 
just  over  that  hill." 

"  So  I  should  suppose,"  observed  the  gentleman 
from  afar,  and  proceeded  to  weigh  the  couple  with 
a  calculating  eye.  "  Been  at  it  long  ?  "  he  added 
as  one  who  did  not  find  them  altogether  wanting. 


A    WINDFALL  159 

"  A  couple  of  months." 

"  H'mph !  Not  so  long  as  I  should  have  liked, 
but  there  's  just  a  chance  that  you  can  help  me,  as  I 
am  sure  you  will,  sir,"  nodding  at  Denis,  who  nod- 
ded back,  "  if  you  can.  Perhaps  the  lad  will  be  so 
kind  as  to  hold  my  horse.  Thanky.  Not  that  it 's 
mine  at  all,"  the  incongruous  gentleman  went  on, 
as  he  flung  down  the  reins  and  addressed  himself 
to  the  contents  of  a  small  black  bag.  "  I  could  n't 
afford  twenty-four  hours  in  Melbourne  waiting 
for  the  coach,  so  I  had  to  hire,  with  all  sorts  of 
arrangements  for  changing  horses  on  the  way.  But 
my  coachman  was  in  liquor  before  midnight,  and 
when  I  left  him,  appropriately  enough  at  Bacchus 
Marsh,  early  this  morning,  I  was  n't  going  to  trust 
myself  to  another.  If  you  have  a  tongue  in  your 
head,  sir,  you  can  find  your  own  way  from  Lincoln's 
Inn  to  John  o'  Groats.  Ah,  now  I  have  it ! "  and 
he  produced  a  photograph,  of  the  carte-de-visite 
size  then  alone  in  vogue,  and  shook  it  playfully  at 
Denis  before  putting  it  into  his  outstretched  hand. 
"  There,  sir ! "  he  wound  up.  "  If  you  happen  to 
know  that  face,  just  say  so ;  and  if  you  do  not  know 
it,  have  the  goodness  not  to  pretend  you  do.  The 
answer  to  the  question  is  Yes  or  No." 

Denis  looked  upon  the  full-length  presentment  of 
a  very  tall  gentleman,  in  a  frock-coat,  a  white  waist- 
coat, and  an  attitude  as  stiff  as  the  heart  of  early 
Victorian  photographer  could  desire.  An  elbow 
rested  on  the  pedestal  of  a  draped  pillar,  and  the 


160  DENIS    DENT 

thumb  of  that  hand  in  the  watch-pocket ;  but  the 
handsome  face  looked  contemptuously  conscious  of 
its  own  self-consciousness,  only  it  was  the  very 
gentlest  contempt,  and  Denis  recognized  the  expres- 
sion before  the  face.  Strip  off  his  muddy  rags,  re- 
apparel  him  thus,  shave  his  chin  and  nick  his  beard 
into  flowing  whiskers,  and  there  was  their  friend  the 
deep-sinker,  hardly  a  day  younger  than  when  Denis 
had  last  seen  him  on  his  claim  in  Rotten  Gully. 

"  The  answer  is  Yes,"  he  said,  returning  the  like- 
ness. 

"  You  are  sure  of  that  ?  " 

"  Quite." 

"  You  do  n't  want  the  lad  to  confirm  your  view  ?  " 

"  As  you  like ;  but  he  has  only  seen  him  once,  and 
I  have  twice.  It 's  the  deep-sinker,  Jimmy,"  added 
Denis  over  his  shoulder. 

The  shaven  gentleman  pulled  a  wry  face. 

"  May  I  ask  if  that 's  the  only  name  you  know 
him  by  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  heard  his  name ;  but  that 's  what 
he  is,  and  the  most  scientific  one  I  Ve  come  across." 

The  wry  face  went  into  a  dry  smile. 

"  And  do  you  know  where  to  find  him  ?" 

"  Well,  I  know  his  claim." 

"  Would  you  very  much  mind  getting  up  beside 
me  and  directing  me  how  to  drive  there  ?  " 

"  I  should  be  delighted  to  have  the  lift." 

"  Thanky.  There  '11  be  room  for  your  young 
friend  behind.  This  is  one  of  those  happy  coinci- 


A    WINDFALL  161 

dences  which  almost  give  one  back  one's  childish 
belief  in  luck  !  " 

The  diggings  were  in  the  state  of  suspended  ani- 
mation which  was  their  normal  condition  from 
twelve  to  three.  The  latest  pilgrim  blinked  about 
him  through  his  spectacles,  more  interested  than 
impressed  with  what  he  saw.  Denis  took  the  reins, 
turned  off  the  road  at  once,  found  a  ford  in  the 
northern  bend  of  the  Yarrowee,  and  drove  straight 
into  an  outpost  of  windsails  and  windlasses  hidden 
away  behind  the  hill.  In  another  minute  the  buggy 
drew  up  beside  the  deep-sinker's  solid  little  hut,  in 
whose  shade  his  soured  assistant  sat  asleep,  with 
his  eyebrows  up  and  the  corners  of  his  mouth 
turned  down,  even  in  his  dreams. 

"  Where 's  your  master  ?  "  demanded  the  visitor, 
causing  Denis  and  Doherty  to  exchange  glances  ; 
but  the  other  merely  opened  a  long-suffering  eye, 
pointed  indoors,  and  had  closed  it  again  before  the 
gentleman  descended. 

At  his  request,  the  partners  remained  in  the 
buggy,  where  they  spent  an  interval  of  a  few  min- 
utes in  covetous  admiration  of  the  neat  hut  with  its 
bark  roof,  the  iron  windlass,  the  stack  of  timber 
slabs  for  lining  the  shaft,  and  the  suggestively  solid 
opening  of  the  shaft  itself.  They  agreed  to  look 
down,  if  not  to  descend,  with  the  deep-sinker's  per- 
mission, before  departure.  Meanwhile  his  quiet 
voice  was  not  to  be  heard  outside,  but  the  visitor's 
was,  and  eventually  the  pair  emerged. 


162  DENIS    DENT 

"  But  I  'm  just  going  to  touch  bottom,"  the  tall 
digger  expostulated.  "  After  weeks  and  months 
I  'm  all  but  on  it,  and  now  you  want  to  carry  me 
off!" 

The  visitor  whispered  some  smiling  argument, 
which  elicited  a  shrug  of  familiar  and  restrained 
contempt. 

"  It  is  n't  the  money,"  said  the  tall  man.  "  It 's 
the  fun  of  the  thing,  do  n't  you  know." 

The  visitor  took  out  his  watch  as  though  they 
could  just  catch  a  train. 

"  I  've  arranged  for  fresh  horses  all  along  the 
road,"  said  he.  "  These  have  only  done  ten  miles, 
and  they  can  do  the  same  ten  back  again.  I  hope 
I  made  it  plain  about  the  first  ship.  It  may  sail 
the  day  after  to-morrow." 

The  digger  sighed  inevitable  acquiescence.  He 
looked  rather  sadly,  yet  with  some  quiet  amuse- 
ment, at  his  rude  little  home,  at  the  good  wind- 
lass on  its  staging  stamped  against  the  sky.  His 
assistant  had  meanwhile  risen  from  his  slumbers, 
and  was  standing  respectfully  at  hand. 

"  Charles,"  said  the  digger, "  I  've  got  to  go  home. 
Are  you  coming  with  me,  or  will  you  stay  out  here 
and  make  your  fortune  out  of  the  hole  ?  I  '11  make 
you  a  present  of  it  if  you  will." 

But  the  look  of  splendid  disgust  had  vanished  as 
if  by  magic  from  the  assistant's  face.  "  I  '11  go 
home  with  you,  sir ! "  he  said  emphatically,  and 
then  looked  from  one  gentleman  to  the  other,  as 


A    WINDFALL  163 

though  he  might  have  committed  a  solecism.  He 
was  forthwith  ordered  into  the  hut  to  put  his  mas- 
ter's things  together,  with  a  grim  smile  on  the  mas- 
ter's part,  who  proceeded  at  last  to  notice  Denis,  or 
at  any  rate  to  record  such  notice  with  his  fraction 
of  a  nod. 

"  So  it 's  to  you  I  owe  my  prompt  discovery," 
said  he.  "  Ton  my  word  I  'm  not  as  grateful  to 
you  as  I  ought  to  be !  Doing  any  better  on  Black 
Hill  Flat?" 

"  I  've  left  it,"  said  Denis,  rather  shortly. 

"  Where  are  you  now  ?  " 

"  Nowhere.  We  have  sold  up  and  are  going  to 
start  again.  Your  friend  has  given  us  a  lift,  for 
which  we  're  much  obliged,  but  I  think  the  horses 
would  stand  all  right  without  us." 

"  Would  you  like  to  take  over  this  claim  and 
hole?" 

"  I  have  no  money,"  said  Denis.  Behind  him 
Doherty  had  given  a  gasp,  followed  by  something 
like  a  sob  of  disappointment.  But  the  deep-sinker 
wore  the  broadest  smile  they  had  ever  seen  upon 
his  languid  countenance. 

"  My  dear  good  fellow,  I  do  n't  want  money  for 
it ! "  cried  he.  "  I  want  a  worthy  inheritor  with 
energy  and  ideas,  somebody  a  cut  above  the  stupid 
average,  and  by  Jove  you  're  my  very  man  !  Come 
on :  if  you  do  n't  the  whole  thing  will  be  jumped 
by  the  nearest  ruffian.  I  do  n't  say  there 's  much 
in  the  hole;  but  it's  a  good,  sound  hole  as  far  as  it 


164  DENIS    DENT 

goes,  and  it  can't  have  to  go  much  further.  We  've 
worked  through  the  light  clays  and  through  the  sand, 
and  we  're  well  in  the  red ;  when  you  get  through  that 
you  can  start  washing,  and  I  wish  you  the  luck  you 
deserve.  Thank  me  ?  What  for  ?  If  you  do  n't 
come  in  some  one  else  will.  I  am  only  too  glad  to 
leave  the  little  place  in  such  good  hands.  It  was 
pretty  carefully  chosen,  and  if  it  is  n't  plumb  over 
the  gutter  it  ought  to  be." 

So  the  reconstructed  firm  of  Dent  and  Doherty 
became  possessed  of  one  of  the  deepest  holes  and 
best-appointed  claims  on  the  celebrated  Eureka 
Lead,  and  all  within  a  few  minutes  ;  for  it  took  the 
man  Charles  no  longer  to  collect  such  chattels  as 
were  worth  his  master's  while  to  take  away  with 
him.  Thus,  ere  the  diggings  were  astir  again  for 
the  afternoon,  the  new  owners  were  alone  in  their 
unforeseen  glory,  and  one  of  them  at  least  was  still 
capering  and  singing  in  his  joy.  But  over  Denis  a 
cloud  had  already  fallen ;  and  there  was  a  blacker 
cloud  on  Jimmy  when  he  grasped  the  cause. 

"  It 's  Moseley,"  said  Denis.  "  This  is  horribly 
unfair  on  him." 

"Unfair!     How?" 

"  Suppose  we  should  have  as  good  luck  here  as 
we  had  bad  luck  on  the  flat !  " 

"Well?  Did  n't  he  want  to  be  out  of  it  ?  Wasn't 
he  longing  to  go  home?  " 

"  I  do  n't  like  it,"  persisted  Denis.  "  I  played  a 
trick  on  him,  but  I  never  thought  it  would  turn  out 


A    WINDFALL  165 

like  this.  I  thought  we  should  spend  months  doing 
what  we  've  after  all  had  done  for  us."  He  raised 
his  brooding  eyes  from  the  ground,  and  there  was 
the  buggy  still  in  view,  labouring  in  and  out  among 
the  tents.  "  Jimmy,  you  stay  on  the  claim ! "  he 
cried,  and  dashed  after  it  on  the  spur  of  the  mo- 
ment. 

"  What 's  happened  ? "  asked  the  late  sinker, 
pleasantly.  "  We  have  n't  forgotten  anything,  have 
we?" 

"  No,  but  I  have,"  panted  Denis,  "  and  if  you  can 
help  me  I  '11  be  as  grateful  again  to  you.  There 's 
a  chum  of  ours  who  left  us  only  this  morning.  He 
was  sick  of  it ;  but  he  little  knew  the  luck  that  was 
in  store  for  us.  His  name 's  Moseley,  and  he  was 
going  home  in  the  first  ship,  which  will  be  your 
ship,  but  you  will  probably  overtake  him  on  the 
road  to-night." 

"  What 's  he  like  ?  "  asked  the  spectacled  gentle- 
man, who  no  longer  drove ;  and  when  Denis  told 
him  he  was  sure  he  had  met  Moseley  in  the  fore- 
noon, and  felt  confident  of  recognizing  him  again. 

"  Then  will  you  tell  him  exactly  what  has  hap- 
pened to  us,  and  that  he  shall  come  in  on  the  old 
shares  if  only  he  '11  come  back  ?  Say  we  changed 
our  mind  about  Bendigo  ;  and  say  we  must  be  two 
men  and  a  boy,  and  we  'd  far  rather  he  was  the 
other  man  than  some  stranger,  especially  if  there 's 
a  fortune  in  it.  Tell  him  there  probably  is ;  and  if 
you  will  tell  it  him  all  from  his  friend,  Denis  Dent, 


166  DENIS    DENT 

gentlemen,  I  can't  say  how  grateful  I  shall  be  to 
you ! " 

Denis  had  an  odd  reward  for  his  trouble  and  this 
outburst.  The  tall  digger  shook  hands  with  him 
for  the  first  and  last  time. 

But  the  climax  of  the  business  was  to  come  long 
before  Moseley's  answer.  Denis  had  not  been  five 
minutes  absent,  yet  on  his  return  to  the  new  claim 
it  was  surrounded  by  a  fringe  of  diggers  embel- 
lished by  a  posse  of  mounted  men  in  spruce  uni- 
form. 

"  What  on  earth  is  it  ?  "  cried  Denis,  rushing  up 
in  alarm. 

"  The  old  story,"  answered  a  digger.  "  Joe ! 
Joe!  Joe!" 

"  Traps,"  added  another ;  but  Denis  had  not  been 
on  the  diggings  two  months  without  learning  the 
meaning  of  both  words.  Either  was  the  diggers' 
danger  signal,  and  signified  a  raid  by  the  police  in 
search  of  their  licenses ;  in  fact,  that  very  sport 
whose  praises  Lieutenant  Rackham  had  sung  in  the 
ear  of  his  old  crony  Captain  Devenish. 

And  it  was  Rackham  who  led  the  present  field ; 
dismounted,  he  had  run  his  man  to  earth  in  the 
bark-roofed  hut;  and  his  man  was  no  more  of  a 
man  than  the  unfortunate  Doherty,  who  was  cling- 
ing tooth  and  nail  to  the  door-post,  while  Rackham 
himself,  a  full-blooded  negro  in  his  rage,  tugged 
like  a  terrier  at  his  ankles. 

"  Stick  to  it,  little  'un ! "  cried  one  in  good-hu- 


A    WINDFALL  167 

moured  encouragement.  "  If  you  do  n't,  the  claim  '11 
be  jumped  afore  your  mate  gets  back." 

"  Hold  your  row,"  growled  another  with  an  oath. 
"  It 's  a  fine  deep  hole,  and  I  have  a  jolly  good 
mind  to  jump  it  myself." 

Denis  burst  through  them  at  that  moment. 

"  What 's  the  matter  ?  "  he  demanded  of  Rack- 
ham  ;  but  he  had  the  sense  not  to  lay  a  hand  on 
the  fellow's  uniform,  and  the  black  devil  let  go  one 
of  Doherty's  ankles. 

"  He 's  not  got  his  license,  and  he 's  going  to  the 
Logs,"  says  Rackham,  showing  his  white  teeth  in 
the  sun.  "  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  His  mate,"  said  Denis.  "  Do  you  mind  letting 
go  his  other  leg  ?  " 

"  And  where 's  your  license  ?  "  added  Rackham, 
turning  on  him  as  he  complied. 

Denis  was  feeling  in  his  breast  pocket  with  a 
smile  ;  before  quitting  the  flat  Jimmy  had  proposed 
to  destroy  his  Ballarat  license  as  of  no  further  use, 
but  Denis  knowing  better  had  got  it  from  him  on 
some  pretext. 

"  Here  is  my  license  and  his,  too,"  said  he,  and 
handed  both  to  Rackham,  who  now  stood  livid  and 
trembling  with  mortification,  under  a  derisive  cross- 
fire of  "Joe!  Joe!  Joe!"  from  all  sides  of  the 
claim.  "  If  you  will  examine  them,"  added  Denis,  with 
the  politeness  he  could  afford, "  you  will  find  that  they 
both  have  about  a  week  to  run  ;  and  after  this  you  may 
trust  us  to  take  out  the  new  ones  in  Very  good  time." 


CHAPTER  XVII 
HATE  AND  MONEY 

NIGGER  RACKHAM  had  the  freedom  of 
the  tent  on  the  Gravel  Pits,  where  he 
would  appear  sometimes  at  dead  of  night, 
brandishing  a  bottle  and  demanding  the  Welsh 
rarebit  or  the  savoury  omelette  at  which  Jewson 
had  shown  himself  an  adept.  Many  an  impromptu 
carouse  was  thus  initiated,  and  it  was  after  one  of 
them  that  Rackham  distinguished  himself  by  whis- 
tling for  a  hansom  outside  the  tent.  He  was  a  man 
of  violent  appetites,  whose  every  vein  was  swollen 
with  sufficiently  savage  blood.  But  he  had  a  crude 
vitality  and  a  brutal  gaiety  very  bracing  on  occa- 
sion, as  when  he  told  of  Denis's  fortunes  in  one 
breath,  but  undertook  his  ruin  in  the  next.  This 
was  a  night  or  two  after  their  collision  at  the  new 
claim  ;  the  bottle  was  getting  low,  and  the  lieuten- 
ant's eyes  were  like  living  coals. 

"  I  '11  take  it  out  of  him  !  I  '11  have  him  at  the 
Logs  yet,  never  fear,"  said  he.  "  There  are  only 
two  of  them ;  some  fine  morning  there  '11  be  only 
one,  and  no  license  to  show.  Then  away  he  goes, 
and  if  you  like  you  shall  jump  the  claim.  But  it 
won't  be  for  another  month." 


HATE    AND    MONEY        169 

"  Another  month  ! "  echoed  Devenish  with  a  blank 
face. 

"  The  brutes  have  taken  out  their  new  license  a 
good  two  days  before  they  need,"  explained  the 
lieutenant.  "  That  I  happen  to  know,  but  they 
do  n't  know  I  know  it.  They  've  had  a  fight,  and 
we  are  ready  for  another  raid ;  if  we  let  them  be 
they  won't  take  such  care  when  this  next  month  's 
up.  But  we  must  wait  till  it  is  up,  and  we  must 
chance  your  poor  relation  growing  rich  in  the 
time." 

Ralph  Devenish  sat  up  smoking  for  an  hour  when 
the  bottle  was  empty  and  his  companion  gone.  He 
was  much  the  more  temperate  man  of  the  two,  but 
patience  was  not  one  of  his  virtues,  though  it  had  be- 
come a  necessity  of  his  protracted  suit.  That  only 
left  him  with  less  than  ever  for  the  ordinary  inci- 
dents of  life,  and  his  experience  as  a  digger  had 
not  made  Devenish  more  patient.  He  had  been 
as  lucky  at  the  start  as  Dent  had  been  unlucky. 
In  these  few  weeks  he  had  actually  netted  some 
three  hundred  pounds  sterling,  out  of  a  chain  of 
shallow  workings  whereby  he  and  others  had  been 
tracing  the  Gravel  Pits  Lead  down  its  course  :  only 
within  the  last  day  or  two  had  the  lead  run  into  a 
drift  of  water  which  had  flooded  all  the  holes  and 
completely  damped  Ralph's  ardour.  It  was  pro- 
nounced impossible  to  sink  through  this  drift  with- 
out the  tiresome  operation  known  as  "  puddling  "  ; 
and  that  proved  far  too  heroic  a  measure  for  Ralph 


170  DENIS    DENT 

Devenish,  who  was  only  happy  when  washing  his 
two  or  three  ounces  a  day.  So  one  morning  he  was 
counting  on  making  his  three  hundred  up  to  five  at 
least,  and  by  the  following  night  he  had  found  out 
when  the  next  ship  sailed  from  Melbourne.  It  was 
at  this  juncture  that  Rackham  brought  word  of  a 
contrary  turn  in  the  affairs  of  Denis.  The  untimely 
news  checked  all  Ralph's  plans.  He  was  not  at  all 
inclined  to  leave  his  rival  with  the  ball  at  his  feet, 
and  nothing  to  stop  him  but  the  capricious  perse- 
cution of  a  corrupt  constabulary. 

Ralph  might  have  blushed  to  put  it  so  even  to 
himself,  but  that  was  his  actual  attitude  as  he  sat 
smoking  into  the  small  hours,  and  so  Jewson  stole 
in  and  found  him  in  the  end.  Ralph  was  not 
startled ;  the  steward  was  regularly  the  last  abed ; 
but  now  his  boots  were  yellow  with  fresh  dust,  and 
the  perspiration  showered  from  his  peaked  cap  as 
he  took  it  off. 

"  Where  have  you  been  ?  "  asked  Ralph,  raising 
a  morose  face  to  stare. 

"  I  thought  you  might  like  an  extra  drop  to- 
night," replied  the  steward,  winking  and  grinning 
as  he  produced  a  bottle,  "  so  I  Ve  been  getting  you 
another  of  these  from  where  the  lieutenant  gets  'em. 
You  do  n't  do  your  fair  share,  Captain  Devenish, 
sir,  and  you  may  want  to  when  you  've  heard  my 
little  report." 

"  Report  of  what  ?  "  asked  Devenish.  But  the 
steward  would  only  chuckle  and  shake  a  wicked 


HATE    AND    MONEY        171 

skull  until  the  grog  was  served  out  and  the  pair 
seated,  pannikin  to  pannikin,  on  either  side  of  the 
packing-case  that  did  duty  for  a  table. 

"  I  heard  what  you  were  talking  about,  you  see," 
began  Jewson,  wiping  the  gray  moustache  from 
which  the  dye  had  almost  disappeared. 

"  You  generally  do." 

"  And  you  generally  know  it,  so  where 's  the 
harm?  But  when  I  hear  you  talking  about  the 
second  mate  that  was,"  continued  the  steward,  show- 
ing a  whole  set  of  ill-fitting  false  teeth,  "  I  do  more 
than  hear — I  listen — and  listen  I  will  whenever  I 
catch  his  cursed  name  !  " 

"Well?" 

"  Well,  sir,  it 's  right." 

"  What 's  right  ?  " 

"  What  the  lieutenant  was  telling  you.  He  's 
fallen  on  his  feet  this  time.  I  've  been  to  see." 

"  You  Ve  been  to  Mr.  Dent's  tent  already  ?  " 

The  prefix  was  a  mark  which  it  would  have  been 
against  Ralph's  instincts  to  overstep  with  an  inferior. 
It  was  incongruous  enough  to  curve  the  corners  of 
the  steward's  mouth. 

"  It  ain't  a  tent,"  said  he,  chuckling.  "  It 's  one 
of  the  best  huts  I  Ve  seen  on  the  diggings." 

"  It  is,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Once  I  'd  found  Rotten  Gully,  which  is  n't  so 
very  far  from  this,  it  was  easy  enough  to  find  the 
only  claim  it  could  be." 

"  So  it 's  as  good  as  all  that ! " 


172  DENIS    DENT 

"  To  look  at,"  said  Jewson,  "  on  a  moonlight 
night.  But  they  'd  their  own  light  burning  inside ; 
you  had  n't  to  get  very  near  to  hear  their  voices. 
They  were  sitting  up  yarning,  same  as  you  and  the 
lieutenant.  Only  on  tea,"  added  the  steward,  in  the 
absence  of  further  encouragement. 

"  Poor  devils  !  "  remarked  Devenish,  raising  his 
pannikin. 

"  You  can't  call  'em  poor  now,  sir,"  declared  the 
steward.  "  All 's  fair  in  love  and  war,  and  I  had  a 
look  in  on  'em  like  a  mouse :  they  've  proper 
crockery  left  'em  by  the  outgoing  tenant,  and  a 
proper  table  to  set  it  on." 

"  Anything  else?"  inquired  Ralph,  sarcastically. 

Jewson  leaned  forward  and  lowered  his  voice 
as  though  they  were  being  spied  upon  in  their 
turn. 

"  Half  a  saucerful  of  gold-dust  out  of  the  hole !  " 

"  Already  !  "  exclaimed  Devenish,  dropping  re- 
serve in  his  astonishment. 

"  In  the  very  first  day's  washing !  They  never 
began  until  to-day.  That 's  what 's  keeping  them 
up  all  night,"  added  Jewson.  "  They  Ve  started 
looking  ahead,  you  see.  Let  me  fill  up  your  pan- 
nikin, Captain  Devenish.  You  do  n't  get  half  a 
chance  with  Mr.  Rackham,  sir  ! " 

Ralph  Devenish  was  one  who  carried  his  liquor 
in  a  manner  worthy  of  his  blood.  His  worst  friend 
had  seldom  seen  him  fuddled.  He  was  so  much 
the  less  proof  against  the  deeper  and  more  damning 


HATE    AND    MONEY        173 

effects.  His  tongue  did  not  slur  a  syllable  that  fol- 
lowed, but  it  ran  away  with  him  all  the  faster  for 
that.  It  muttered  degrading  confidences  ;  it  snarled 
unscrupulous  revenge;  it  revealed  a  man  so  dif- 
ferent from  the  Ralph  Devenish  known  of  other 
men  that  it  was  as  though  the  drink  had  gone  to 
his  heart  instead  of  to  his  head. 

"  I  will  marry  her !  I  swear  I  will !  We  were 
all  but  engaged  before,  and  I  '11  marry  her  yet. 
He  never  shall.  I  '11  see  him  in  hell  first — I  '11  send 
him  there  myself !  An  infernal  snob  out  of  the  mer- 
chant service,  and  his  infernal  father's  son  all  over ! 
What 's  the  matter  with  you,  Jewson  ?  What  are 
you  grinning  at?" 

"  Only  at  the  idea  of  you  committing  a  crime, 
sir.  A  captain  in  the  Grenadier  Guards  !  Ho,  ho, 
ho  !  "  And  the  steward  showed  his  horrible  teeth 
again  ;  but  there  was  no  mirth  in  the  little  black 
penetrating  eyes  that  were  fast  to  Ralph's. 

"  But  I  would  !  "  he  swore.  "  I  mean  to  marry 
her,  by  hook  or  crook." 

"  You  really  do  ?  "  said  Jewson,  turning  grave. 

"  Fair  or  foul !  "  cried  Ralph,  recklessly. 

"  It 's  all  one  in  love  and  war,"  repeated  the  stew- 
ard, with  a  shrug.  "  But  if  you  mean  what  you 
say  I  '11  tell  you  what  to  do." 

"  You  will,  will  you  ?     Well,  let 's  have  it." 

"  I  should  do  as  you  were  thinking  of  doing  ear- 
lier in  the  evening.  I  should  go  home  by  the  first 
ship,  and  marry  her  quick ! " 


174  DENIS    DENT 

"  What !  Leave  him  digging  his  fortune  and 
writing  her  all  about  it  every  mail  ?  " 

Devenish  had  already  vowed  that  he  would  never 
do  that.  He  repeated  the  vow  with  an  oath. 

"  But  you  do  n't  know  that  she 's  getting  any  let- 
ters," remarked  Jewson,  calmly. 

Ralph  gave  him  a  sharp  look.  "  What  do  you 
mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  Only  that  he  may  not  be  writing  to  her ;  he 
did  n't  in  the  beginning,  you  see ;  that  letter  I 
posted  was  his  first." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  His  mate  told  me  so." 

"  You  did  post  it,  Jewson  ?  " 

The  steward  chuckled  as  he  shook  his  head. 

"  That 's  tellings,"  said  he,  slyly.  "  You  can 
think  I  did  n't,  or  you  can  think  I  did.  He  de- 
served to  have  it  posted,  did  n't  he  ?  He  deserves 
so  well  of  me  and  you,  do  n't  he  ?  All 's  fair  in 
them  two  things,  you  know  ;  if  it 's  the  one  thing 
with  you,  it 's  the  other  with  me ;  it 's  bloody  war 
between  me  and  the  second  mate,  and  will  be 
whether  you  stay  or  not !  " 

Devenish  was  revolted  in  spite  of  his  worst  self. 
But  he  was  also  relieved,  and  his  conscience  dead- 
ened as  quickly  as  it  had  come  to  life  again.  If 
the  letter  had  not  been  posted,  it  was  through  no 
fault  of  his,  and  even  now  he  knew  nothing  about 
it.  And  if  Jewson,  for  his  own  reasons,  chose  to 
stay  behind  on  the  diggings,  in  order  to  thwart  the 


HATE    AND    MONEY        175 

man  who  so  richly  deserved  thwarting,  neither  had 
he,  Ralph,  anything  on  earth  to  do  with  that.  Yet 
his  nature  shrank  from  such  an  ally,  even  as  he  be- 
gan to  appreciate  the  creature's  value,  and  he 
frowned  as  he  filled  the  Turk's  head  for  the  twen- 
tieth time  that  night.  His  hand  was  as  steady  as 
his  speech.  It  was  his  better  nature  that  was  under 
eclipse.  Meanwhile,  the  steward  took  the  oppor- 
tunity of  surreptitiously  replenishing  Ralph's  pan- 
nikin, and  still  more  surreptitiously  emptying  his 
own  upon  the  ground. 

"  So  you  propose  to  hold  a  watching  brief  on  my 
behalf  ?  "  said  Ralph  at  last,  and  forced  a  smile  at 
the  idea. 

"  I  propose  to  keep  an  eye  on  him  for  you,  if 
that 's  what  you  mean,"  replied  the  steward. 

"  But  Sergeant  Rackham  's  going  to  do  that  as  it 
is.  He  says  he'll  be  level  with  our  friend  in  a 
month." 

"  A  month  !  "  echoed  Jewson,  scornfully.  "  He  '11 
be  a  made  man  in  a  month,  if  he  goes  on  as  he 's 
begun.  He 's  tumbled  on  a  jeweler's  shop,  or  I  'm 
much  mistaken." 

"  Well,  you  can't  take  it  from  him,  can  you  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  not." 

"  You  mean  you  can  ! "  exclaimed  Devenish,  irri- 
tated by  the  confident  subtlety  of  the  man's  manner. 

"  Oh,  no,  I  do  n't." 

Devenish  tilted  the  pannikin  and  set  it  down  with 
a  clatter. 


176  DENIS    DENT 

"  Then  what  do  you  mean  ?  Out  with  it,  Jew- 
son.  I  'm  sick  of  beating  about  the  bush  !  " 

"  So  am  I,"  said  the  steward,  dryly. 

"  If  you  can't  turn  a  man  out  of  his  hole,  and 
prevent  him  getting  all  that 's  to  be  got  out  of  it, 
what  on  earth  can  you  do  that 's  any  good  to  me  ?  " 

"  If  you  went  home,"  said  Jewson,  slowly,  "  I 
could  keep  him  here  till  it  was  no  use  his  following 
you — till  you  were  married  ! " 

"  Oh,  so  you  think  you  could  do  all  that  ?  " 

"  I  know  I  could,  Captain  Devenish." 

"  You  know  it,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  you  would  make  it  worth  my  while." 

Ralph  laughed  harshly  as  he  raised  the  pannikin 
once  more. 

"  I  was  waiting  for  that,  you  old  villain  !  I  was 
waiting  for  that !  " 

But  it  did  not  disgust  him.  He  did  not  even 
pretend  to  be  disgusted.  There  were  no  scruples 
left  in  those  reckless,  heated  eyes. 

"  You  give  me  your  promissory  note  for  a  thou- 
sand pounds,  payable  on  your  wedding  day,  or  on 
demand  thereafter,  and  you  '11  be  married  the  month 
after  you  get  back." 

Ralph  laughed  more  harshly  than  before. 

"  Go  on,  Jewson  !  You  are  n't  drunk,  are  you  ? 
Then  how  do  you  think  you  're  going  to  manage 
it?" 

"  Ah,  that  I  sha'  n't  tell  you  ;  but  manage  it  I  can 
and  will.  You  leave  it  to  me.  If  you  sail  at  the 


HATE    AND    MONEY        177 

New  Year — and  there 's  two  or  three  ships  adver- 
tised— it  '11  be  your  own  fault  if  you  are  n't  married 
by  midsummer.  And  if  that  is  n't  worth  a  thou- 
sand pounds  I  do  n't  know  what  is." 

"  It 's  worth  two  ! "  whispered  Devenish,  hoarsely ; 
"  and  you  shall  have  two  if — if " 

"  If  what  ?  " 

"  If  he — if  he  lives  to  see  the  day." 

Jewson  chuckled  aloud. 

"  Of  course  he  will !  "  he  cried.  "  Where  would 
be  the  fun  if  he  did  n't  ?  Where  would  be  my  fun 
— that 's  been  due  to  me  ever  since  he  had  me  dis- 
rated ?  " 

"  Then  it 's  a  bargain." 

"  What  ?  Are  you  going  to  give  me  your  hand 
on  it,  Captain  Devenish  ?  " 

"  My  hand  and  word,  and  if  I  break  the  one  may 
the  other  wither !  " 

"  But  you  '11  put  it  on  paper,  sir,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  Whenever  you  like." 

"  One  thousand  or  two  ?  " 

"  Two  if  he  lives  to  see  it — nothing  if  he  does  n't." 

"  A  bargain  it  is." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
ROTTEN  GULLY 

JEWSON  had  not  exaggerated  the  manifest 
attraction  of  the  claim  in  Rotten  Gully. 
The  hut  was  eighteen  feet  by  ten,  very  sol- 
idly built,  with  a  fireplace  and  a  chimney  at  the  in- 
ner end.  Many  neat  contrivances  in  the  shape  of 
shelves  and  racks  testified  to  the  leisurely  particu- 
larity of  the  late  owner.  He  had  settled  down  as 
on  some  desert  island  where  a  man  might  expect  to 
end  his  days.  There  were  refinements  so  superflu- 
ous in  themselves  as  to  suggest  that  the  actual  work 
had  proved  as  alluring  as  the  natural  reward.  In 
point  of  fact  the  Eureka  Lead  had  been  followed 
through  the  gully  and  lost  on  the  flat  beyond  while 
this  deliberate  digger  built  him  his  hut  and  sank  the 
hole  which  he  was  fated  to  abandon  within  a  few 
feet  of  the  gutter. 

But  the  hole  was  by  far  the  best  and  soundest  in 
the  gully,  which  deserved  its  name  insomuch  as  it 
provided  insecure  sinkings  as  a  rule.  Some  of  the 
abandoned  shafts  had  already  fallen  in  ;  but  this  one 
was  beautifully  slabbed  with  timber  from  top  to 
bottom,  now  some  sixty  odd  feet,  the  depth  of  the 
lead  hereabouts  being  something  under  seventy. 


ROTTEN    GULLY  179 

One  of  the  first  things  Denis  did  when  they  were 
left  in  peaceable  possession  of  the  claim  was  to  lo- 
cate it  in  his  last  map ;  and  a  mark  was  duly  made 
in  the  very  middle  of  one  of  the  red  rivers. 

"  Right  over  the  gutter !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  The 
sinker  said  so ;  but  he  was  n't  the  man  to  sink  any- 
where else.  Do  n't  you  remember  him  saying  we 
were  within  a  few  feet  of  it  ?  Jimmy,  I  'm  going 
through  some  of  those  feet  before  I  'm  an  hour 
older,  and  we  '11  try  the  first  tub  to-night !  " 

He  went  down  at  once  in  the  bucket,  armed  with 
a  spade — a  complete  plant  had  been  thrown  in  with 
the  claim — and  for  an  hour  he  dug  straight  down, 
making  the  smallest  and  deepest  hole  possible,  and 
finally  filling  the  bucket  from  the  bottom.  But  it 
was  hard  work.  The  red  clay  was  so  veritably  rot- 
ten that  again  and  again  the  little  hole  filled  up. 
Denis's  shirt  was  plastered  to  his  skin  when  Doherty 
wound  him  above  ground  with  the  bucket,  and  the 
clay  in  the  latter  was  still  as  red  as  ever.  Denis 
took  it  to  the  creek,  however,  and  tried  it  piecemeal 
in  a  tin  dish,  but  did  not  get  a  grain.  He  returned 
to  Doherty  unruffled  and  smiling. 

"  It 's  no  use,  Jimmy ;  we  've  not  got  down  to  it  yet, 
and  we  sha'  n't  get  down  to  it  like  that.  We  must 
go  on  digging  the  whole  shaft.  But  there 's  another 
good  hour  of  daylight,  and  if  you  like  to  go  down 
and  do  a  trick  I  '11  wind  up  the  buckets  as  you  fill 
them." 

As  the  shaft  went  down  by  inches  the  sides  had 


i8o  DENIS    DENT 

to  be  slabbed  as  heretofore ;  but  the  "  sets  of  tim- 
ber "  stacked  outside  the  tent  proved  to  be  cut  to 
the  size,  pointed,  and  ready  for  fitting  into  the 
grooved  uprights,  which  in  their  turn  were  found  to 
have  been  driven  into  the  four  corners  of  the  shaft 
to  a  depth  of  several  feet  beyond  that  of  the  shaft 
itself.  So  there  was  no  difficulty  there  while  the 
cut  slabs  lasted,  and  as  the  pair  worked  half  the 
night  in  their  excitement,  by  lantern  light,  and  were 
at  it  again  by  sunrise,  they  had  added  some  three 
or  four  feet  to  the  depth  by  the  following  forenoon. 
Then  Denis  tried  another  little  hole  in  the  middle, 
and  this  time  the  third  spadeful  was  different  from 
the  other  two.  Some  particles  of  gravel  trickled 
from  the  end  of  the  spade,  and  even  what  was  on  it 
was  of  two  colours  and  two  consistencies.  The 
next  thrust  grated  to  the  ear.  Denis  roared  for  the 
bucket,  and  a  head  and  shoulders  stamped  them- 
selves upon  the  square  envelope  of  sky  overhead. 

"  I  Ve  struck  it !  I  've  struck  it !  Down  with  the 
bucket  and  stand  by  to  wind  up  !  " 

A  wideawake  danced  against  the  tiny  square  of 
blue ;  a  shrill  cheer  came  tumbling  in  echoes  down 
the  timbered  shaft ;  then  a  leaping  bucket,  then  a 
writhing  rope ;  and  the  head  and  shoulders  hung 
over  the  brink  once  more  in  motionless  silhouette, 
while  Denis  filled  the  bucket  with  the  gravelly  sub- 
stance, separating  the  inaugural  spadeful  with  his 
hands.  There  was  a  difference  even  to  the  touch. 
The  red  clay  was  slightly  damp,  the  gravelly  com- 


ROTTEN    GULLY  181 

pound  perceptibly  warmer,  and  so  delightfully  gritty 
that  Denis  could  have  sworn  the  grits  were  pure 
gold.  But  it  took  him  some  time  to  fill  the  bucket, 
for  the  red  clay  was  not  too  damp  to  crumble,  and 
it  continually  poured  back  into  his  advance  hole, 
burying  him  sometimes  to  the  thighs.  At  last,  how- 
ever, a  homogeneous  bucketful  was  got  to  upper 
air,  and  Denis  after  it  in  a  mud-bath  of  clay  and 
perspiration,  but  with  his  triumph  shining  through 
his  filth. 

It  still  remained  to  test  the  stuff  and  justify  the 
triumph,  but  Denis  did  both  without  delay  at  the 
creek,  which  was  far  nearer  here  than  on  Black  Hill 
Flat.  They  had  no  cradle  as  yet  at  the  new  claim, 
whose  late  methodical  proprietor  had  not  arrived  at 
the  stage  of  requiring  one ;  but  Denis  took  the  tin 
dish  once  more,  and  came  back  beating  it  like  a 
tambourine,  on  knee  and  head,  but  carrying  the 
empty  bucket  at  arm's  length  in  the  other  hand. 
At  least  it  felt  as  empty  to  Denis  as  it  looked  to 
Doherty,  until  the  bucket  was  tilted,  and  what  had 
seemed  but  a  sparse  deposit  of  rather  yellow  and 
sparkling  sand  formed  a  slender  segment  of  palpable 
gold-dust 

They  poured  it  from  the  bucket  back  into  the  tin 
dish,  and  from  the  tin  dish  into  a  smaller  tin,  and 
from  the  smaller  tin  into  the  saucer  in  which  Jewson 
really  did  get  a  glimpse  of  about  half  of  it  that  night. 
The  trial  "  tub  "  had  yielded  upwards  of  two  ounces, 
by  the  gold-scales  of  a  friendly  neighbour ;  before 


182  DENIS    DENT 

night  Denis  had  spent  quite  half  on  a  good  candle, 
a  pair  of  scales,  and  the  wherewithal  for  a  digger's 
supper  of  new  damper,  steaming  chops,  and  scald- 
ing tea. 

Thereafter  the  pair  sat  up  planning,  building, 
furnishing  and  inhabiting  castles  which  were  no 
longer  altogether  in  the  air ;  but  with  Denis,  in  any 
case,  early  hours  would  have  been  impossible  after 
such  a  meal  hurled  into  an  empty  stomach  in  the 
late  evening  of  such  a  day;  and  the  pernicious 
combination  may  be  confidently  traced  in  the  view 
which  he  took  of  this  very  aspect  of  a  situation 
otherwise  surpassing  all  his  dreams. 

"  It 's  all  very  well  for  a  day  or  two,"  said 
Denis,  "  but  you  and  I  can  never  go  on  doing  all 
the  work  and  the  cooking  too.  We  could  n't  even 
if  we  were  born  cooks.  What  we  want  is  some 
fellow  to  look  after  us  and  the  hut.  Two  all  told 
are  not  enough." 

Doherty  was  toying  with  the  gold-dust  in  the 
saucer,  picking  it  up  in  pinches,  and  letting  it 
trickle  through  his  fingers  in  fairy  showers,  play- 
ing with  it,  drawing  in  it,  as  children  play  and 
draw  in  sand.  The  game  palled  even  as  Denis 
spoke. 

"  Two  were  enough  for  the  swell  cove  who  was 
here  before  us,  mister." 

"  I  know :  he  took  his  time :  so  many  hours  a 
day,  or  so  few,  and  not  a  minute  more.  What 's 
the  result  ?  He  is  n't  here  to  reap  his  reward, 


ROTTEN    GULLY  183 

because  he  was  in  no  hurry,  and  it  did  n't  much 
matter  after  all.  But  I  am  here — I  am  in  a  hurry 
— eveiy  grain  and  every  minute  matters  to  me  ! " 

"  It  would  mean  one  grain  in  three  instead  of  in 
two." 

"  Then  the  three  would  come  quicker  than  the 
two  do  now.  Not  that  we  're  obliged  to  take  an- 
other partner  because  we  want  an  extra  hand ;  at 
two  ounces  to  the  tub  we  could  afford  to  make  it 
worth  many  a  man's  while  to  do  all  we  want  at  so 
much  the  week." 

Jimmy  looked  up  quickly. 

"  Then  you  have  n't  heard  from  Mr.  Moseley 
yet?" 

"  I  have,  Jimmy.  I  called  at  the  post-office  to- 
night, and  the  letter  was  there.  Not  he  !  Not  for 
Joe !  He  wishes  us  all  possible  luck,  but  he  has 
had  enough  of  the  diggings  to  last  him  a  lifetime ; 
and  from  what  he  says  he  ought  to  be  out  at  sea  by 
this  time,  homeward  bound.  Put  the  billy  on  the 
fire,  Jimmy,  and  we  '11  drink  him  a  good  voyage  in 
half  a  pannikin  of  tea  before  we  turn  in." 

To  all  this  Jewson  stood  listening,  if  not  at  the 
door,  still  within  easy  earshot  of  the  unsuspecting 
friends ;  and  as  he  listened  an  inspiration  burst  upon 
his  crafty  brain.  He  drew  away  in  the  moonlight, 
nodding  and  grinning  to  himself — a  grotesque 
Mephistopheles  if  you  will — yet  deeper  and  darker 
than  friend  or  foe  imagined.  His  plan  was  matured 
on  the  way  back  to  the  Gravel  Pits,  and  Captain 


184  DENIS    DENT 

De vanish  was  told  just  as  much  as  it  was  good  for 
him  to  know  that  night,  but  as  we  have  seen,  not  a 
syllable  more,  and  that  modicum  with  the  wary  tact 
and  infinite  precaution  of  a  Mephistopheles  of  higher 
class. 

Next  day  was  a  great  one  at  the  new  claim ;  from 
early  morning  to  high  noon  the  pair  laboured  in 
hourly  shifts  at  lowering  the  whole  shaft  to  the 
level  of  the  precious  wash-dirt.  It  was  not  to  be  done 
in  the  time.  But  later  in  the  day  they  went  deep 
at  one  corner,  and  at  last  uncovered  an  angle  of 
the  gutter  which  they  had  only  probed  the  day  be- 
fore. They  took  up  several  bucketfuls  to  try  in  the 
new  cradle  before  dark.  The  yields  were  uneven, 
but  the  lowest  was  an  ounce,  the  highest  three 
ounces  ten  pennyweight,  and  the  day's  aggregate 
just  under  one  pound,  or  upward  of  forty  pounds 
sterling. 

Yet  they  were  less  excited  than  they  had  been 
the  night  before.  The  gold  was  there ;  it  was  only 
a  question  of  getting  it  out,  a  question  of  time, 
ways,  and  means.  They  had  taken  turns  at  the 
creek  as  well  as  in  the  hole,  and  the  friendly  neigh- 
bour who  had  lent  his  scales  had  kept  an  eye  on 
the  new  cradle  in  their  absence,  which  was  inter- 
mittent owing  to  the  necessity  of  one  always  re- 
maining on  the  claim.  "  You  must  find  another 
mate,"  said  he  to  Doherty,  who  no  longer  disagreed 
as  he  toiled  back  to  the  hut.  They  must  find  an- 
other mate,  or  they  must  greatly  reduce  their  hours 


ROTTEN    GULLY  185 

of  labour.  A  reduction  of  profits  would  result  in 
either  case. 

To-night  they  were  too  tired  to  cook.  Denis 
made  tea,  and  each  took  a  pannikin  to  his  couch, 
and  spread  himself  prostrate  in  the  dusk. 

"  In  another  hour  or  two,"  said  Denis,  "  we  '11 
go  out  one  at  a  time,  and  have  the  best  supper 
that  money  can  buy  on  Ballarat.  We  can  afford 
that ;  but  we  can't  afford  to  go  on  using  ourselves 
up  at  this  rate." 

A  slumbrous  sigh  was  the  only  answer  from  the 
other  bunk ;  but  Denis  was  too  much  exercised  in 
his  mind  to  close  an  eye.  Should  they  seek  a 
mate  ?  or  should  they  restrict  their  hours  ?  Could 
they  get  a  respectable  hireling  to  look  after  them  if 
they  tried  ?  The  last  plan  was  the  most  desirable 
for  obvious  reasons ;  and  Denis  desired  it  on  other 
grounds  as  well.  He  was  naturally  anxious,  for  his 
own  sake  and  for  one  other's,  to  make  as  much 
money  as  possible  in  as  little  time;  and  he  had 
tasted  blood,  at  last,  in  an  intoxicating  draught. 
He  had  begun  making  up  for  lost  time ;  that  was 
what  he  must  go  on  doing.  It  was  not  so  with 
Doherty,  however,  and  this  time  Denis  had  quite 
decided  to  respect  the  prejudices  of  the  lad  who 
had  stood  by  him  so  loyally  through  so  many  luck- 
less weeks.  After  all,  in  the  beginning  they  had 
actually  started  for  the  diggings,  they  two,  to  sink 
or  to  swim  together.  The  importation  of  Moseley 
had  been  as  unfair  as  it  had  proved  unwise ;  the 


i86  DENIS    DENT 

ignorant  lad  had  found  himself  at  a  continual  dis- 
advantage between  the  two  educated  men;  they 
could  talk  in  parables  beyond  his  comprehension, 
and  Moseley  invariably  did.  Doherty  had  been 
bitterly  jealous  of  him,  yet  had  striven  finely  to 
suppress  his  chagrin,  and  never  stooped  to  back- 
biting or  tale-bearing  under  its  stress.  And  his 
devotion  to  Denis  had  never  wavered ;  that  was  at 
once  a  touching  consideration  and  a  clear  claim. 
No ;  there  should  be  no  more  partners  if  Denis 
could  help  it,  but  if  he  could  not,  then  the  new- 
comer should  be  a  man  after  Jimmy's  heart  rather 
than  his  own. 

It  was  moonlight  when  Denis  came  to  this  con- 
clusion of  the  matter,  though  he  had  lain  down  in 
daylight  not  long  before.  He  did  not  lie  many 
minutes  more.  A  shambling  step  came  to  his  ears, 
came  nearer  and  nearer ;  he  jumped  up  in  time  to 
meet  a  tottering  figure  at  the  door. 


CHAPTER  XIX 
NEW  BLOOD 

"  T  EWSON  ! "  exclaimed  Denis  in  cold  astonish- 
I  ment.  "  What  in  the  world  do  you  want — 
+J  with  me  ?  " 

"  You  may  well  ask,  sir,"  replied  the  steward,  in 
an  abject  whine,  "  but  on  all  the  diggings  there  was 
no  one  else  that  I  could  turn  to — little  as  I  deserve 
at  your  hands,  sir — little  as  I  know  I  deserve !  But 
you  look  at  me,  Mr.  Dent,  and  you  '11  see  the  way 
I  've  been  used ! " 

He  turned  his  face  into  the  level  moonbeams ;  an 
eye  was  closed  and  discoloured ;  a  lip  was  swollen 
and  cut,  and  the  coat  was  almost  torn  off  the 
steward's  back,  hanging  in  ribbons  from  the 
shoulders  only. 

"  Some  one 's  been  knocking  you  about,"  re- 
marked Denis,  dispassionately. 

"  Some  one  has,"  the  steward  agreed,  grimly : 
"  some  one  as  ought  to  have  known  better — some 
one  not  half  as  old  as  me,  and  more  than  twice  as 
strong !  But  it  was  my  fault.  I  might  have 
known !  I  seen  it  coming  from  the  first ;  it  was 
bound  to  come  when  the  luck  gave  out.  You  '11 
have  heard  about  the  water  on  the  Gravel  Pits, 


i88  DENIS    DENT 

likely  ?  It 's  flooded  us  out  altogether ;  and  this 
is  the  way  the  Captain 's  used  me,  with  his  own 
hands,  after  two  months'  faithful  service ! " 

"  You  've  probably  been  getting  drunk,"  said 
Denis ;  but  there  was  no  sign  of  drink  about  the 
man ;  and  Denis  accepted  his  denial  with  some  re- 
gret for  the  suggestion,  for  he  was  already  more 
sympathetic  than  he  seemed,  because  readier  than 
he  knew  to  believe  ill  of  Devenish. 

The  steward's  story  was  that  for  some  trifling 
omission  he  had  been  visited  with  a  torrent  of 
intolerable  abuse,  and  on  remonstrance,  with  the 
personal  chastisement  of  which  he  bore  marks 
which  never  struck  Denis  as  other  than  genuine. 
The  wretch  was  clever  enough  to  make  excuses  for 
his  late  master,  whose  behaviour  he  attributed 
entirely  to  irritation  caused  by  the  ruin  of  his 
claim ;  but  as  Jewson  said,  that  was  not  his  fault, 
and  he  could  not  stay  another  hour  with  a  gentle- 
man who  used  him  so.  So  he  had  turned  to  Denis 
in  his  distress — little  right  as  he  had — and  he  hoped 
the  past  at  least  would  be  forgiven  and  forgotten — 
if  only  for  the  sake  of  the  season. 

"  Why,  what  is  the  season  ?  "  asked  Denis  ;  for  in 
the  incessant  excitement  of  the  last  few  days,  and 
the  unaccustomed  surroundings  of  blue  sky  and 
blazing  heat,  he  had  quite  forgotten  that  Christmas 
was  upon  them ;  but  he  remembered  as  he  spokef 
and  could  quite  believe  the  steward's  statement  that 
it  was  already  Christmas  Eve. 


NEW    BLOOD  189 

"  And  to  think  you  had  forgotten  !  "  added  Jew- 
son,  who  was  fast  recovering  a  careful  kind  of  con- 
fidence. "  Why,  I  expected  to  find  you  starting  to 
keep  it  in  the  good  old  style — roast  beef — turkeys — 
plum-pudding  and  mince  pies  !  What 's  the  good 
of  being  a  lucky  digger  unless  you  keep  a  high  old 
Christmas  like  the  rest  of  'em  ?  " 

"  Who  told  you  I  was  one  ?  "  asked  Denis,  sus- 
piciously. 

"  Who  told  me  ?  If  you  asked  me  who  had  n't 
told  me,  Mr.  Dent,  I  might  be  able  to  answer  you, 
sir.  You  do  n't  keep  a  thing  like  that  to  yourself 
in  a  place  like  this.  Captain  Devenish  told  me,  for 
one ;  it  was  one  of  the  things  that  helped  to  make 
him  mad." 

"  Well,"  said  Denis,  "  you  must  come  in,  steward, 
but  I  'm  sorry  there  's  nothing  to  offer  you.  We 
were  going  out  to  get  something  before  we  turn  in. 
There's  nothing  in  the  place  but  the  remains  of 
some  mutton  we  had  last  night  and  this  midday, 
some  stale  damper,  and  some  dried-up  cheese." 

"  Call  that  nothing  ?  "  chuckled  Jewson.  "  You 
might  let  me  see  what 's  left,  Mr.  Dent ;  it 's  won- 
derful what  can  be  done  with  what,  by  a  bit  of  a 
cook ;  and  I  'm  all  that,  sir,  though  I  say  it.  I 
might  be  able  to  save  you  turning  out  again,  and 
I  'd  be  proud  to  do  it  after  your  kindness,  Mr. 
Dent,  which  I  have  done  so  little  to  deserve  !  " 

Denis  was  not  the  man  to  refuse;  he  did  not 
like  the  fellow's  whining  tone,  but  it  was  not  his 


190  DENIS    DENT 

only  tone,  and  he  did  appear  to  have  been  roughly 
handled.  He  did  not  impose  upon  Denis  alto- 
gether, but  only  as  much  as  was  necessary,  which 
was  characteristic  of  his  craft.  He  was  admitted,  a 
lamp  lit  without  disturbing  Doherty,  and  the 
remnants  of  the  mutton  fetched  from  an  outside 
safe.  Jewson  sniffed  it  suspiciously. 

"  Sweet  enough !  "  said  he.  "  I  see  you  knew 
enough  to  salt  it.  And  are  them  taters  I  see  in 
that  sack  ?  Then  down  you  lie  like  your  mate,  and 
shut  your  eyes,  and  see  what  the  king  '11  send  you  ! 
Stop  a  bit,  though ;  did  n't  you  say  there  was  bread 
and  cheese  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  they  're  both  as  hard  as  nails." 

"  Never  mind ;  they  may  make  into  something 
soft.  Any  mustard  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  they  left  us  some." 

"  No  beer,  I  suppose  ?  " 

«  No." 

"  Well,  never  mind.  You  leave  the  rest  to  me. 
Thank  you,  I  see  where  everything  else  is,  and  in 
twenty  minutes  to  half-an-hour  there'll  be  some- 
thing for  you  to  see  and  taste  too  !  " 

Already  he  was  crouching  over  the  fire,  blowing 
upon  the  red  embers,  coaxing  them  into  flames; 
and  in  the  growing  glow  his  cunning  face  looked 
kindly  enough,  and  his  grin  but  that  of  an  artist 
bent  on  triumphing  over  materials  which  only  put 
him  on  his  artistic  mettle.  Denis  watched  him  a 
little  from  the  door.  Then  he  sauntered  to  and  fro 


NEW    BLOOD  ,91 

between  hut  and  shaft ;  and  presently  there  came  to 
his  nostrils  the  most  savoury  and  appetizing  smell 
that  they  had  yet  encountered  on  the  diggings. 
Something  was  hissing  on  the  fire;  at  the  table 
Jewson  was  preparing  something  else.  On  his  bed 
Doherty  still  slept  the  sleep  of  exhaustion;  and 
down  upon  the  bark  roof  of  the  hut,  on  the  black 
hieroglyph  of  the  mounted  windlass,  and  on  the 
white  tents  further  along  the  gully,  shone  a  moon 
of  surpassing  purity  and  splendour.  And  Denis 
thought  of  a  Christmas  hymn,  and  then  of  Father 
Christmas  himself,  as  he  peered  in  and  watched  the 
elderly  evil-doer  with  the  once-dyed  beard  prepar- 
ing his  miraculous  and  momentous  meal. 

Momentous  as  the  sequel  will  very  soon  show, 
at  the  time  it  was  indeed  little  less  than  a  miracle, 
and  nothing  less  to  Doherty,  who  was  roused  from 
a  castaway's  dreams  of  plenty  to  find  them  true. 
The  remains  of  the  mutton  had  been  changed  as  by 
some  fairy  wand  into  a  spiced  ragout  swimming  in 
rich  gravy.  The  cook  apologized  for  the  potatoes, 
which  he  had  only  had  time  to  fry ;  but  the  other 
diners  had  forgotten  that  potatoes  could  be  fried, 
and  their  appreciation  was  proportionate.  But  the 
greatest  success  came  in  the  Welsh  rarebit  which  a 
master  hand  had  evolved  from  the  stale  damper  and 
the  dried-up  cheese.  It  lay  steaming  in  its  dish 
like  liquid  gold — a  joy  to  the  eye,  a  boon  to  the 
nose,  and  to  the  diggers'  hardened  palates  an  in- 
conceivable delicacy  and  treat. 


192  DENIS    DENT 

"  And  to  think,"  said  Denis,  "  that  we  had  the 
material  by  us;  that  we've  had  it  ready  to  our 
hand  any  time  these  two  months  ! " 

"  And  much  good  it  was,  or  would  have  been," 
echoed  Doherty,  "  to  our  hand !  It 's  the  hand 
that  matters,  not  the  material.  Mr.  Steward,  give 
me  yours  ! " 

"  His  name  is  Jewson,"  remarked  Denis  ;  and 
his  heart  sank  in  spite  of  him  as  he  saw  the  young 
hand  join  the  old  across  the  empty  plates. 

"  But  you  called  me  steward,  Mr.  Dent,  and  I 
like  to  be  called  steward,"  rejoined  Jewson,  adroitly. 
"  It  reminds  me,of  times  you  may  think  I  'd  like  to 
forget ;  but  I  would  n't  and  shall  I  tell  you  why  ? 
Because  I  'd  like  to  make  up  for  'em,  sir,  if  only 
you  'd  give  me  the  chance.  I  'm  out  of  a  job. 
Wild  hosses  would  n't  take  me  back  to  Captain 
Devenish.  I  was  only  his  servant,  not  a  partner, 
and  I  '11  be  your  servant,  Mr.  Dent,  and  a  good  one, 
sir,  if  you  '11  give  me  a  trial.  Pay  me  what  you 
like — I  ain't  partic'lar." 

And  the  old  rogue  lapsed  into  a  living  heap  of 
humility ;  but  he  had  gone  just  one  sentence  too 
far. 

"  I  '11  pay  you  well  if  I  take  you,"  said  Denis, 
shortly,  as  he  sipped  his  tea.  Yet  even  the  tea 
seemed  a  better  brew  than  they  had  managed  to 
achieve  for  themselves. 

"  I  do  n't  want  you  to  make  up  your  minds  to- 
night," resumed  the  steward,  reducing  the  humility 


NEW    BLOOD  193 

a  degree  or  so.  "  I  do  n't  care  about  hotel  work. 
I  certainly  should  n't  start  work  at  any  of  these 
here  shanties  on  Christmas  Day.  They  have  ap- 
proached me,  you  understand,  through  Lieutenant 
Rackham,  who  has  been  kind  enough  to  say  a  good 
word  for  my  capabilities.  But  that 's  not  the  kind 
of  place  I  'd  like  so  well  as  this.  Let  me  camp  out- 
side to-night,  and  cook  your  Christmas  dinner  to- 
morrow, while  you  think  it  over." 

But  Denis  said  he  would  prefer  to  think  it  over 
at  once,  and  lit  his  pipe,  and  went  out  to  do  so 
then  and  there,  with  a  troubled  face  which  Jewson 
could  understand  and  Doherty  could  not. 

"  He  never  liked  me,"  said  the  steward  with  a 
sigh.  "  And  it  was  my  fault,"  he  added  self- 
reproachfully. 

"  But  if  you  see  that  you  could  soon  make  him 
like  you." 

"  If  he  gave  me  the  chance,  perhaps." 

"  He  shall ! " 

Denis  was  leaning  in  the  moonlight  against  the 
windlass  staging.  There  he  listened  to  the  lad's 
strenuous  and  enthusiastic  plea. 

"  We  've  never  had  a  mate  like  that  since  we  've 
been  on  Ballarat,"  urged  Jimmy  ;  "  and  all  done  in 
half-an-hour  out  of  our  own  odds  and  ends  !  Why, 
mister,  that  steward  of  yours  would  make  a  man 
of  me  and  a  new  man  of  you  in  less  than  no  time. 
And  he  does  n't  even  ask  to  be  a  partner ;  he 's  the 
very  man  we  want,  dropped  from  the  stars  on  to 


194  DENIS    DENT 

this  blessed  claim !  If  we  do  n't  snap  him  up, 
others  soon  will,  and  we  deserve  to  lose  the  second- 
best  chance  we  've  ever  had." 

Denis  puffed  his  pipe  in  silence. 

"  I  know  him,  you  see,"  he  said  at  last. 

"  Of  course  you  do." 

"  But  I  never  liked  him." 

"  So  he  says." 

"  And  it  was  his  own  fault." 

"  He  says  that  too.  He  's  said  enough  for  me  to 
see  he  means  turning  over  a  new  leaf  if  you  give 
him  this  chance." 

Denis  wavered.  If  he  was  going  to  give  the 
man  a  chance  (and  he  could  always  watch  him, 
and  get  rid  of  him  at  a  moment's  notice)  it  would 
be  perhaps  unfair  to  let  the  lad  know  all  he 
thought  about  their  prospective  companion. 

"  Do  you  really  want  him  to  have  the  job, 
Jimmy  ?  " 

"  I  do  so,  mister.  He 's  the  very  man  for  us.  I 
want  him  bad." 

"  And  you  never  wanted  Mr.  Moseley  at  all,  eh  ?  " 

"  No,  mister,  I  never  did." 

Denis  went  on  smoking  for  another  minute. 
The  moon  was  high  now,  and  as  pure  as  ever. 
The  tents  further  down  the  gully  shone  white  as 
from  a  fall  of  real  Christmas  snow ;  and  sounds  of 
real  Christmas  came  faintly  from  them,  and  more 
faintly  from  far  beyond.  Denis,  however,  was  not 
thinking  of  the  morrow,  but  of  many  a  morrow — 


NEW    BLOOD  195 

of  long  days  of  unremitting  labour — of  short  nights 
when  the  spent  body  would  be  fit  but  for  rest  and 
for  refreshment.  He  felt  the  better  already  for  this 
single  evening  meal.  And  the  man  could  be 
watched — the  man  could  be  watched. 

"  Well,  mister  ?  " 

"  It 's  all  right,  Jimmy.  He  shall  have  his  trial — 
to-morrow — the  day  after  to-morrow — and  as  many 
days  after  that  again  as  he  suits  us  and  we  him. 
But  never  let  him  know  the  half  of  what  we  take, 
and  never  you  leave  him  on  the  claim  alone." 


CHAPTER  XX 
THE  JEWELER'S  SHOP 

DENT  and  Doherty  became  the  heroes  of 
one  of  those  fairy-tales  in  which  the  times 
were  rich.  For  eight  consecutive  days, 
after  laying  the  gutter  bare  from  wall  to  wall  of  the 
shaft,  and  slabbing  the  latter  down  to  the  last  inch, 
they  washed  their  twenty  tubs  a  day,  and  averaged 
rather  better  than  four  ounces  to  the  tub.  The 
daily  yield  only  once  fell  below  .£300  at  current 
rates  ;  but  more  than  once  it  impinged  upon  .£400. 
Altogether  the  eight  days  realized  upwards  ot 
£S°>  which  was  the  aggregate  amount  handed 
over  to  the  Commissioner,  who  forwarded  it  to  Gee- 
long  by  Gold  Escort,  which  delivered  it  to  a  firm  of 
gold-buyers  whom  the  Commissioner  could  recom- 
mend, and  who  presently  remitted  some  £2,400 
in  hard  cash. 

These  wonderful  days  were  also  the  most  com- 
fortable that  the  partners  had  yet  spent  upon  the 
diggings.  They  were  properly  looked  after  for  the 
first  time.  They  had  three  good  meals  a  day,  to 
say  nothing  of  coffee  and  a  biscuit  before  they  went 
to  work  in  the  early  morning  and  afternoon  tea 
with  hot  cakes  or  any  other  incongruous  luxury 


THE   JEWELER'S   SHOP    197 

which  happened  to  occur  to  the  steward's  mind. 
Denis  said  it  was  a  good  thing  they  were  working 
so  hard.  Doherty  rolled  his  eyes  and  put  on  flesh. 
The  pair  were  being  spoiled  and  cosseted  by  a 
master-hand,  and  it  did  them  more  good  than  their 
success.  They  were  the  better  workers  by  day,  the 
better  sleepers  by  night,  and  this  despite  the  mani- 
fold excitements  of  every  waking  hour. 

Jewson  was  excelling  himself;  but  an  outsider 
would  have  said  it  was  well  worth  his  while,  for 
Denis  had  hit  upon  a  scale  of  pay  which  made  him 
after  all  a  small  partner,  whose  earnings  might 
amount  to  several  sovereigns  a  day,  and  could  not 
fall  below  five  pounds  a  week.  As  prices  went,  the 
bargain  was  not  extravagant,  and  Denis  was  the 
first  to  appreciate  the  blessing  of  better  food ;  the 
steward's  prowess  was  no  small  asset  in  the  suddenly 
successful  concern,  and  he  must  be  kept  in  it  by 
hook  or  crook ;  on  that  the  partners  were  agreed. 
And  yet  Denis  was  as  far  as  ever  from  trusting  the 
man  in  his  heart,  though  his  original  prejudice  had 
abated  not  a  little. 

Jewson  wore  a  shade  over  the  blackened  eye, 
which  had  only  been  exposed  by  moonlight ;  but 
Denis's  distrust  was  not  such  as  to  make  him  want 
to  lift  it,  because  it  never  occurred  to  him  to  dis- 
credit the  account  of  his  cousin's  violence;  and 
therein  is  seen  the  working  of  another  prejudice,  on 
which  a  cunning  brain  had  counted  all  along.  A 
simple  nature,  on  the  other  hand,  is  simple  even  in 


198  DENIS    DENT 

its  suspicions ;  and  the  worst  that  Denis  harboured 
were  engendered  by  Jewson's  strange  practice  of 
shopping  at  night  only  and  usually  being  hours 
about  it.  Denis  sometimes  had  a  mind  to  follow 
him,  but  it  was  not  in  his  nature  to  play  the  spy, 
and  so  the  real  spy  went  free. 

The  lucky  pair  took  their  luck  very  coolly,  one 
because  he  did  not  understand  the  value  of  money, 
the  other  because  he  understood  it  too  well  to  esti- 
mate a  thousand  pounds  at  a  penny  more  than  a 
tithe  of  the  ten  thousand  on  which  he  had  set  his 
heart.  In  money  matters,  however,  the  point  of 
view  is  everything,  and  in  none  is  it  more  mercurial. 
A  day  or  two  served  to  inure  the  partners  to  the 
idea  of  dividing  a  couple  of  thousand  a  week,  and 
Denis  began  almost  to  resent  the  fact  that  at  this 
rate  it  would  take  ten  whole  weeks  for  him  to  reach 
his  minimum ;  he  was  also  annoyed  that  in  all  the 
gold  they  had  got  there  was  not  as  yet  a  single 
nugget. 

"  I  promised  to  send  the  first  one  home  to  Eng- 
land," he  said  openly  in  the  hut.  "  I  would  give  a 
hundred  pounds  to  have  one  worth  fifty  to  send  by 
the  mail  to-morrow  night !  " 

Jewson  was  crouching  over  his  camp-oven  at  the 
time ;  his  back  straightened,  and  for  some  moments 
he  sat  in  an  arrested  attitude,  his  head  thrown  up  in 
undisguised  attention ;  but  this  was  not  noticed, 
and  his  face  could  not  be  seen. 

That  night  the  steward  was  so  long  upon  his 


THE  JEWELER'S   SHOP    199 

rounds  that  Denis  did  not  sit  up  for  him,  but  de- 
cided on  a  word  of  remonstrance  in  the  morning. 
Yet  when  morning  came,  the  coffee  was  so  hot  and 
aromatic,  the  biscuit  so  crisp,  the  fresh  air  so  cool 
and  so  invigorating,  that  he  found  it  difficult  to 
complain  just  then.  And  in  the  first  hour  of  the 
new  day  that  happened  which  effaced  all  untoward 
impressions  from  his  mind. 

Denis  had  been  lowered  into  the  shaft  to  dig. 
Doherty  had  raised  one  bucket  of  wash-dirt,  and  was 
waiting  for  the  next,  when  a  loud  shout  brought 
him  to  the  shaft's  mouth. 

"  A  nugget,  Jimmy !  A  nugget  in  the  nick  of 
time !  I  nearly  cut  it  in  two  with  the  spade !  " 

It  was  a  very  small  nugget,  much  in  the  shape 
and  size  of  a  kidney-bean,  but  of  singularly  pure 
and  smooth  gold,  and  Denis  declared  that  it  was 
just  the  thing.  With  the  point  of  his  knife  he  re- 
moved every  particle  of  earth,  and  then  scrubbed  it 
with  soap  and  water  until  it  was  as  bright  as  the  last 
sovereign  from  the  mint.  It  seemed  to  give  him 
greater  pleasure  than  all  the  gold-dust  despatched 
to  Geelong;  and  no  more  work  was  done  before 
breakfast,  which  was  taken  with  the  nugget  on  the 
table  in  front  of  Denis,  save  when  he  pressed  a 
piece  of  twine  into  the  cleft  made  by  the  spade  and 
tried  how  it  looked  round  Doherty 's  neck. 

"  Half  should  be  yours,  by  rights,"  he  said ;  "  but 
you  won't  mind  if  I  credit  you  with  the  weight  in- 
stead? Do  n't  be  a  fool !  Of  course  I  '11  do  that ! 


200  DENIS    DENT 

But  it  was  almost  my  last  promise — to  send  her  my 
first  nugget — and  it 's  been  such  a  long  time  com- 
ing." 

"  Funny  it 's  coming  just  when  you  wanted  it  for 
the  mail,"  remarked  Doherty  in  perfect  innocence ; 
but  the  steward  spoke  up  from  his  self-appointed 
place  beside  the  fire. 

"  I  only  wonder  it 's  the  first,"  said  he ;  "  but  you 
take  my  word  it  ain't  the  last.  Talk  about  jew- 
elers' shops  !  You  Ve  opened  one  of  the  best  on 
Ballarat.  Look  at  the  men  you  're  bringing  back 
to  the  gully  ;  there  'd  be  a  rush  if  it  was  n't  for  the 
depth  they  've  got  to  sink,  and  that  you  had  all 
done  for  you.  I  sha'  n't  be  satisfied  till  I  see  you 
put  your  pick  into  a  bit  like  they  took  out  of  Ca- 
nadian Gully  twelve  months  ago." 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  consistent  and 
withal  less  officious  than  the  discreetly  sympathetic 
encouragement  of  the  steward  ;  he  also  knew  some- 
thing about  gold-mining,  and  his  unobtrusive  sug- 
gestions were  often  of  value.  Denis  was  indeed 
more  and  more  unable  to  reconcile  the  useful  lands- 
man with  the  ship's  steward  who  had  broached  the 
ship's  spirits  and  misbehaved  himself  in  other  ways  ; 
but  after  all,  a  man  might  pull  himself  together,  and 
having  suffered  from  a  bad  master,  might  well  de- 
sire to  make  the  most  of  a  good  one.  So  Denis 
was  imposed  upon  while  still  as  much  on  guard 
against  imposition  as  these  engrossing  days  al- 
lowed. 


THE  JEWELER'S   SHOP    201 

And  the  eight  days  of  harvest  were  almost  at  an 
end  ;  that  very  morning  there  was  a  subtle  change 
in  the  appearance  of  a  bucketful  that  Doherty  sent 
up,  and  Denis  forthwith  washed  an  almost  wholly 
unprofitable  tub.  He  then  went  down  the  shaft, 
and  found  as  he  expected  that  they  had  struck  the 
bottom  of  the  gutter,  and  were  on  the  hard  paleozoic 
floor.  The  difference  was  even  more  marked  than 
that  between  the  red  clay  and  the  auriferous  drift, 
here  only  four  or  five  feet  thick.  There  were  still 
some  tubs  to  take  before  the  corners  of  the  shaft 
were  cleared  to  the  bed-rock. 

"  And  then  ?  "  asked  Doherty  with  a  blank  face. 

"  Then  the  fun  begins." 

"  Tunneling  ?  " 

"  Of  course." 

"  But  how  do  you  know  which  way  ?  " 

"  Down  the  gully ;  nothing  simpler.  But  first 
of  all  we  can  try  all  round  with  trowels,  in  holes 
just  big  enough  to  take  your  arm,  like  tasting 
cheese ;  then  where  it 's  richest  we  shall  tunnel  for 
another  three  months,  and  if  this  is  the  gutter  and 
not  a  pocket  we  shall  be  well  enough  off  by  that 
time  to  take  a  spell  and  talk  things  over." 

They  were  for  once  down  the  shaft  together,  and 
as  they  stood  discussing  the  situation  the  steward's 
small  head  appeared  like  that  of  a  pin  against  the 
little  square  of  sky  high  above. 

"  There  's  a  Chinaman  selling  beer,"  he  shouted 
down.  "  Would  you  like  some  ?  " 


202  DENIS    DENT 

"  Very  much,"  answered  Denis.  "  Draught  or 
bottle,  steward  ?  " 

«  Draught." 

"  Then  take  three  pints,  and  cool  it  in  the  gallon 
jar.  It 's  an  occasion,"  continued  Denis  down  be- 
low. "  The  first  of  the  nuggets  before  breakfast  and 
the  last  of  the  gutter  before  noon  ;  only,  it 's  not 
the  last;  and  even  if  it  were,  that  little  nugget 
would  be  some  consolation  to  me." 

When  they  regained  the  upper  air  there  was  still 
half-an-hour  before  the  midday  meal,  and  Denis 
spent  it  in  finishing  a  long  letter  and  packing  the 
nugget  with  it  in  a  small  tin  box  unearthed  by  Jewson. 
This  he  tied  up  in  brown  paper,  but  was  unable  to 
seal  for  want  of  wax ;  and  the  parcel  remained  by 
his  plate  as  the  naked  nugget  had  done  at  breakfast. 

It  was  now  the  middle  of  January,  and  the  hottest 
weather  that  Denis  had  ever  known  on  land.  The 
well-built  hut  was  cooler  than  the  open  air,  but  to 
swallow  a  pannikin  of  tea  was  to  have  a  warm  bath 
in  one's  clothes.  The  beer  was  therefore  a  great 
and  timely  treat ;  each  man  made  short  work  of  his 
pint,  and  the  little  package  was  duly  toasted  on  the 
eve  of  its  travels.  Denis  intended  taking  it  to  the 
post-office  himself,  while  the  other  two  enjoyed  the 
siesta  which  was  a  necessity  of  the  digger's  ex- 
istence in  the  hot  season.  A  pipe  on  the  bed  was 
all  he  would  allow  himself  that  day ;  the  others 
were  already  asleep  when  he  lit  up  and  began 
puffing  vigorously  to  keep  his  eyes  open.  The 


THE   JEWELER'S   SHOP    203 

eight  long  days  were  beginning  to  tell  on  him. 
This  one  was  also  of  an  unbearable  and  inhuman 
heat. 

Denis  was  the  first  to  open  his  eyes.  The  pipe 
had  dropped  from  his  teeth.  It  could  not  have 
dangled  very  long,  yet  the  bowl  was  the  coldest 
thing  Denis  had  touched  that  day.  Well,  it  was 
lucky  he  had  not  set  fire  to  himself ;  and  since  the 
others  were  still  stretched  in  slumber,  the  steward 
on  his  blanket  near  the  door,  it  could  not  be  very 
late.  Time  enough  at  least  to  do  what  he  had  in- 
tended doing  without  disturbing  them — and  with 
a  bound  Denis  was  in  the  middle  of  the  floor. 

The  packet  was  not  on  the  table  where  he  had 
left  it.  Had  he  left  it  there  ?  He  tore  the  blankets 
off  his  bed  in  the  wild  hope  of  finding  it  there.  No ; 
he  remembered  keeping  his  eye  on  it  as  he  lay 
back  smoking  like  a  sot.  In  an  instant  the  things 
were  swept  off  the  table  in  a  vain  search  for  the 
little  brown-paper  parcel.  All  this  time  Denis  was 
venting  his  feelings  in  little  involuntary  cries,  but 
now  he  called  the  other  two  by  their  names.  They 
stirred  uneasily  without  waking. 

Denis  began  to  guess  what  had  happened.  His 
mouth  was  dry  and  his  head  heavy.  The  light  had 
altered.  Outside  the  shadows  had  run  like  ink,  and 
by  the  watch  it  was  almost  five  o'clock.  A  three 
hours'  sleep  instead  of  one !  And  his  packet  gone 
with  the  time  for  posting  it ! 

He  searched  further  before  finally  rousing  his 


204  DENIS    DENT 

companions ;  and  there  were  signs  that  the  whole 
place  had  been  carefully  ransacked,  but  none  as  yet 
that  anything  else  had  disappeared.  Denis  was 
equally  thankful  that  he  had  got  rid  of  the  gold-dust 
and  that  cash  payment  was  still  to  come ;  after  all, 
the  value  of  the  nugget  was  chiefly  sentimental ; 
and  there  was  some  compensation  in  the  thought 
that  the  thief  could  not  have  chosen  a  worse  time 
for  himself  or  a  better  one  for  his  victims. 

"  Robbed ! "  echoed  Doherty,  sitting  up  stupidly 
at  last.  His  eyes  had  lost  all  their  brightness,  and 
he  was  soon  nursing  his  head  between  his  hands. 
But  Jewson  was  quicker  to  grasp  what  had  hap- 
pened— quicker  than  Denis  himself. 

"  That  yellow  devil  of  a  Chinaman ! "  he  ex- 
claimed, and  sat  smacking  his  lips  with  a  wry  face. 
"  Opium  !  I  thought  so  !  I  've  known  the  taste 
too  many  years  ;  but  I  '11  know  him  when  I  see  him 
again,  and  I  '11  string  him  up  to  the  nearest  tree  by 
his  own  pig-tail.  Draught  beer,  eh?  I  wonder 
who  else  he  offered  it  to?  See  what  comes  of 
striking  it  rich  and  letting  it  get  about  that  you 
have  struck  it !  No,  I  know  you  can't  help  it,  un- 
less you  've  got  a  private  river  to  wash  your  dirt  in ; 
but  that 's  what 's  done  it,  as  sure  as  I  'm  standing 
here." 

"  But  you  are  not  standing  there,"  rejoined  Denis, 
as  the  servant  made  for  the  door.  "  Where  are  you 
off  to  in  such  a  hurry  ?  " 

"  To  lay  my  hands  on  John  Chinaman ! "  an- 


THE   JEWELER'S   SHOP    205 

swered  Jewson  with  an  oath.  "  To  catch  him  red- 
handed  with  your  nugget  on  him,  and  to  ram  his 
own  pig-tail  down  his  yellow  throat !  " 

The  partners  were  left  looking  at  each  other  with 
rather  different  expressions. 

"  He  '11  do  it,  too,"  said  Doherty,  jerking  his 
head  toward  the  door.  "  Trust  the  old  steward ! " 

"  I  suppose  one  must  trust  him,."  remarked  Denis 
in  a  dubious  tone. 

"  Trust  him  ?  Of  course  you  must !  Why  not, 
mister  ?  Has  n't  he  looked  after  us  well  enough  so 
far  ?  Has  n't  he  made  all  the  difference  in  the  world 
to  us,  and  have  n't  you  admitted  it  every  day  ?  I 
do  n't  care  what  he  was  at  sea ;  let 's  take  him  as  we 
find  him  ashore,  and  then  we  shan't  get  wrong. 
You  do  n't  seriously  think  the  steward 's  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  this,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Not  seriously,"  replied  Denis  ;  nor,  on  reflection, 
had  he  the  smallest  ground  for  any  such  suspicion. 

"  Because,"  pursued  Doherty,  triumphantly,  "  if 
he  wanted  to  put  up  a  robbery,  it 's  a  funny  thing 
he  should  wait  until  there  was  hardly  anything  to 
rob — is  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course." 

"  And  you  've  lost  nothing  except  the  nugget, 
have  you  ?  " 

"  And  the  parcel  it  was  in,  and  my  letter ! " 

"  Perhaps  he's  a  chap  like  me,  wot  can't  read," 
the  lad  suggested  by  way  of  consolation.  "  But  are 
you  sure  that 's  all  you  've  missed  ?  " 


2o6  DENIS    DENT 

He  was  looking  very  hard  at  Denis. 

"  I  think  so,  Jimmy.     Why  ?  " 

"  If  you  undo  another  shirt-button  I  '11  tell  you." 

There  was  no  need  for  Denis  to  do  that.  His 
fingers  were  down  his  neck  in  an  instant.  And  the 
lanyard  of  his  beloved's  hair,  which  had  encircled  it 
day  and  night  for  the  last  three  months,  was  gone 
with  the  little  ring  that  Nan  had  given  him  at  their 
farewell  on  board  the  Memnon. 

His  rage  and  distress  knew  no  bounds ;  the  loss 
of  a  far  larger  nugget  had  been  a  bagatelle  com- 
pared with  this.  A  certain  superstition  was  in- 
grained in  Denis ;  it  was  one  of  the  few  things  he 
had  inherited  from  both  the  races  whose  blood 
clashed  in  his  veins ;  and  in  a  moment  it  was  as 
though  his  star  had  fallen  from  the  zenith.  Apart 
from  the  loss  of  that  which  he  held  dearer  than 
aught  but  Nan  herself — her  talisman — there  was  the 
utter  ill-omen  of  such  a  loss.  And  Denis  raved 
about  both,  bidding  Doherty  find  another  mate  as 
quick  as  he  could,  for  they  were  at  the  end  of  their 
tether  and  would  wash  no  more  ounces. 

"  And  if  we  did,"  cried  the  distracted  fellow,  "  if 
we  took  out  a  million  between  us  after  this,  it  would 
only  be  to  go  home  and  find  her  dead !  You  make 
a  note  of  it,  and  then  clear  out  of  the  sinking  ship. 
My  luck  has  ended  this  day  !  " 

Doherty  bore  it  as  long  as  he  could,  then  jumped 
up  saying  he  was  going  for  the  police.  "  Not  for 
you,"  he  added,  "  though  you  deserve  the  Logs  if 


THE  JEWELER'S   SHOP    207 

ever  a  man  did.  I  've  heard  a  blackfellow  talk  like 
that,  but  not  a  white  man,  and  may  I  never  hear  the 
like  again !  We  '11  have  the  traps  on  the  track  of 
that  Chinaman,  as  well  as  Jewson ;  and  we  '11  get 
back  what  you  Ve  lost  for  its  own  sake,  not  for  what 
it  can't  alter  one  way  or  the  other." 

This  bracing  remonstrance  was  not  without  effect. 
Denis  controlled  himself  by  an  effort,  dashed  away 
an  unmanning  tear,  and  was  soon  the  severest  critic 
of  his  own  despair ;  but  he  would  not  let  Doherty 
summon  the  police,  neither  would  he  go  himself. 

"  It  is  too  intimate — too  sacred — her  hair ! "  he 
whispered  in  a  fresh  access  of  misery.  "  Fancy 
furnishing  a  description  of  that,  and  letting  them 
publish  it  broadcast !  No,  no ;  better  lose  it  alto- 
gether ;  and  may  the  thief  never  dream  what  it  was 
he  took ! " 

"  Then  where  are  you  going  ?  "  asked  Doherty, 
following  Denis  as  he  strode  out  of  the  hut. 

"  Down  the  shaft,  to  start  the  tunneling,  and  to 
try  just  one  tub  before  six,  to  see  if  the  luck  has 
changed  or  not." 

While  he  was  down,  Doherty,  waiting  at  the 
windlass,  received  a  visit  from  the  friendly  neigh- 
bour who  had  kept  an  eye  on  their  cradle  at  the 
creek.  He  said  that  one  of  his  mates  was  minding 
it  still,  but  as  no  one  had  been  near  it  all  the  after- 
noon, and  nothing  seemed  doing  on  the  claim,  he 
had  just  come  to  see  if  anything  was  amiss.  The 
man  was  a  genial,  broad-shouldered,  black-bearded 


208  DENIS    DENT 

digger  of  a  rough  but  excellent  type,  and  on  reflec- 
tion Doherty  told  him  of  the  drugged  beer  and  the 
resultant  loss  of  the  nugget,  but  of  nothing  else. 
The  digger  seemed  considerably  interested,  asked 
several  questions,  and  good-naturedly  lent  a  hand 
to  raise  Denis  from  the  depths. 

"  I  Ve  just  been  hearing  of  your  loss,"  said  he, 
"  and  I  congratulate  you !  It 's  not  many  lucky 
diggers  whose  luck  attracts  the  light-fingered  gentry 
and  who  only  lose  a  four-ounce  nugget  after  all ! 
So  that  cook  of  yours  has  gone  to  look  for  the 
Chinaman  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"I  hope  he'll  find  him,"  said  the  burly  digger, 
and  went  off  with  a  dry  smile  and  a  good-humoured 
nod. 

But  it  was  no  Chinaman  whom  Jewson  had  gone 
to  seek ;  it  was  a  gentlemanly  digger  of  peculiarly 
British  appearance,  with  military  whiskers  which 
had  never  been  allowed  to  meet  upon  the  chin ; 
and  he  was  found  waiting  at  the  place  where  the 
special  coach  with  the  English  mail  was  due  to 
start  for  Melbourne  at  six  o'clock. 

"  At  last ! "  said  he  in  an  ungracious  undertone. 
"  What  happened  to  you,  Jewson  ?  I  had  given 
you  up  altogether." 

"  I  thought  he  'd  never  wake  up,"  whispered 
Jewson  as  they  drew  aside,  "  and  I  durs  n't  run  the 
risk  of  his  finding  me  gone,  as  well  as — as  well  as 
this,  sir ! " 


THE  JEWELER'S   SHOP    209 

"  What  the  devil  are  you  talking  about,  Jewson  ? 
And  what 's  that  ?  " 

It  was  a  small  brown-paper  parcel  which  the 
steward  had  produced. 

"  Something  you  're  going  to  be  so  kind  as 
to  post  and  register  in  Melbourne,  sir.  In 
Melbourne,  mind — not  in  London,  Captain 
Devenish ! " 

"  But  it 's  addressed — why,  damme,  it 's  addressed 
to  Miss  Merridew  ! " 

"  I  know  that,  sir." 

"  Who  addressed  it  ?  " 

"  The  clever  bloke  who  thinks  he 's  going  to 
marry  her,"  answered  Jewson  through  his  artificial 
teeth.  "  Clever  he  may  be,"  he  added,  "  and  suc- 
cessful he  is,  but  he  ain't  so  clever  that  he 's  going 
to  succeed  in  that !  " 

Devenish  took  heart  from  the  cunning  and  con- 
fident face  raised  so  slyly  to  his.  Yet  his  heart  of 
hearts  sank  within  him,  for  it  was  still  not  utterly 
debased,  and  his  compact  with  this  ruffian  was  a 
heaviness  to  him.  "  What  do  you  mean  by  asking 
me  to  post  his  presents  to  her?"  he  demanded 
angrily ;  but  his  anger  was  due  less  to  the  request 
than  to  the  underlying  subtlety  which  he  felt  he  had 
far  better  not  seek  to  probe. 

"  I  'm  not  going  to  tell  you,  Captain  Devenish. 
You  said  you  'd  leave  it  to  me,  sir." 

"  But  it  is  something  from  him  to  her  ?  " 

"  That  I  promise  you  ;  but  it  '11  tell  its  own  tale, 


210  DENIS    DENT 

and  you  '11  hear  it  soon  enough,  once  you  get  home 
safe  and  sound." 

The  driver  had  mounted  to  his  place,  the  five 
horses  had  been  put  to.     Devenish  hesitated  with 
the  little  brown  paper  packet  in  his  hand. 
"  And  she  really  ought  to  have  it?  " 
"  It 's  only  due  to  her,  poor  young  lady." 
"  But  to  me  ?     Is  it  due  to  me,  man  ?  " 
"  It  '11  do  you  more  good,  sir,"  said  Jewson,  raising 
his  crafty  eyes,  "  than  ever  anything  did  you  yet,  in 
that  quarter,  Captain  Devenish." 

Ralph  put  the  packet  in  an  inner  pocket. 
"Well,  I'll  think  about  it,"  said  he.  But  he  did 
not  take  the  hand  that  was  held  out  to  him.  He 
went  from  Ballarat  with  no  more  than  a  nod  to  the 
man  whom  he  was  leaving  there  to  play  a  villain's 
part  on  his  behalf.  It  was  enough  for  Ralph 
Devenish  that  he  had  soiled  his  soul. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
THE  COURIER  OF  DEATH 

DENIS  passed  many  days  underground,  in 
the   fascinating  pursuit  of  driving  a  tiny 
tunnel  due  south  from  the  bottom  of  the 
shaft.     That  way  ran  the  lead  as  traced  already  on 
its    outer    skirfs,  and   that   way   burrowed    Denis 
through  its  golden  core.     The  miniature  corridor 
which  he  made  was  but  two  feet  wide,  and  not  six 
inches  higher  than  its  width.     Denis  could  just  turn 
round  in  it  by  a  series  of  systematic  contortions. 

He  would  have  made  the  drive  roomier  but  for 
an  early  warning  as  to  the  treacherous  character  of 
the  red  clay  stratum  immediately  overhead.  There- 
after he  confined  his  operations  to  the  lower  half  of 
the  auriferous  drift,  which  being  gravelly,  was  more 
or  less  conglomerate,  and  formed  a  continuous  arch 
corresponding  with  the  brickwork  in  a  railway 
tunnel.  The  drive  was  not  timbered  like  the  shaft 
which  led  to  it,  but  at  intervals  props  were  wedged 
against  the  walls,  with  flat  wooden  caps  to  support 
the  roof.  Yet  the  task  seemed  to  Denis  too  precari- 
ous to  depute,  and  worming  every  inch  of  his  way, 
it  took  him  till  February  to  penetrate  fifteen  feet. 
Doherty  was  consoled  by  a  position  of  much  re- 


212  DENIS    DENT 

sponsibility  above  ground :  he  had  the  washing  of 
every  bucketful  which  came  out  of  the  drive,  and 
he  also  was  single-handed,  but  for  some  help  at  the 
water-side  from  the  friendly  fellow  with  the  black 
beard,  whose  offices  he  was  able  to  repay  in  kind. 
The  creek  hereabouts  was  more  populous  now  than 
the  partners  had  found  it.  Their  success  had  had 
the  usual  effect  of  attracting  numbers  to  the  gulley. 
Some  had  taken  possession  of  holes  prematurely 
abandoned  the  year  before,  and  were  working  them 
out  in  feverish  haste  ;  larger  parties  with  plant  and 
capital  were  rapidly  sinking  their  seventy  feet  on 
the  very  edge  of  the  successful  claim.  "  We  '11  be 
down  on  top  of  you  before  you  know  where  you 
are,"  said  one  of  the  newcomers  when  they  heard 
the  direction  in  which  Denis  was  driving.  There- 
upon he  redoubled  his  efforts  to  such  purpose  that 
Doherty  could  not  keep  pace  with  the  output,  and 
a  stack  of  untried  wash- dirt  grew  up  beside  the  shaft. 
In  spite  of  this  the  average  yield  in  washen  gold 
was  many  ounces  a  day.  And  daily  Denis  took  it, 
his  revolver  in  his  pocket,  to  the  Commissioner  for 
transmission  to  Geelong,  where  the  accredited  gold- 
buyer  had  turned  out  so  well  that  the  partners  no 
longer  received  his  payments  in  cash,  but  had 
several  thousands  standing  to  their  credit  in  his 
books. 

Jewson  was  much  subdued.  There  was  some- 
thing uncanny  in  the  way  this  fortune  was  growing 
under  his  eyes,  in  spite  of  him.  But  he  had  his  own 


THE  COURIER  OF  DEATH  213 

reasons  for  undiminished  confidence  in  the  end  which 
an  undying  grudge  and  innate  cupidity  alike  de- 
manded; meanwhile  his  honest  emoluments  were 
not  to  be  despised,  and  he  continued  to  earn  them 
by  the  consistent  exercise  of  his  one  accomplish- 
ment. His  cooking  was  as  good  as  ever,  his  be- 
haviour even  better,  since  the  nocturnal  excursions 
were  a  thing  of  the  past.  This  circumstance  was 
too  much  of  a  coincidence  to  decrease  Denis's  sus- 
picions ;  on  the  other  hand,  nothing  occurred  to  in- 
crease them,  and  Denis  was  not  sorry  for  that.  The 
man  was  invaluable.  So  much  labour  underground 
must  have  been  deadly  in  its  effects  without  regular 
supplies  of  proper  food  properly  cooked.  And 
there  the  steward  never  failed.  But  Denis  had  his 
eye  on  him,  and  was  wise  enough  never  to  betray 
whatever  suspicion  he  had  entertained  with  regard 
to  Jewson's  complicity  in  the  theft  of  the  nugget 
and  the  ring. 

Jewson  naturally  thought  that  matter  had  blown 
over ;  but  one  morning,  as  he  was  happily  occupied 
with  the  duties  which  he  really  relished  for  their 
own  sake,  the  door  darkened  as  a  pair  of  broad 
shoulders  jammed  between  the  posts  ;  and  the  stew- 
ard found  himself  confronted  by  a  blue-black  beard 
which  contrasted  invidiously  with  the  unwilling 
whiteness  of  his  own. 

"  Well,"  said  a  voice  of  grim  good-humour,  "  have 
you  found  him  yet  ?  " 

"  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  "  replied  the  stew- 


214  DENIS    DENT 

ard,  testily.  "  Who  are  you — and  what  do  you 
want  ?  " 

"  Never  you  mind  who  I  am,"  said  the  big  man 
at  the  door.  "  You  've  seen  me  afore,  and  I  Ve  seen 
more  of  you  than  you  might  think.  What  I  want 
is  to  know  whether  you  ever  found  the  Chinaman 
you  went  lookin'  for  a  month  ago ;  and  that 's  what 
I  be  talkin'  about.  So  now  you  know." 

The  steward  stood  at  the  table  with  his  wicked 
head  on  one  side,  considering  rapidly  while  he  af- 
fected to  ransack  his  memory. 

"  You  mean  the  Chinaman  who  sold  the  doctored 
beer?" 

"  I  mean  the  Chinaman  who  sold  you  the  beer 
that  got  doctored." 

«  No — I  never  could  lay  hold  of  him,"  said  the 
steward,  ignoring  the  pointed  improvement  upon  his 
phrase. 

"  Well,  I  have,"  said  the  big  miner  in  the  door- 
way. 

"  You  Ve  laid  hold  of  him  ? "  the  other  queried 
in  nervous  incredulity. 

The  digger  nodded  a  big  black  head  that  looked 
as  picturesque  as  piratical  in  a  knitted  cap  of  bright 
scarlet. 

"  I  'd  been  lookin'  for  him,  too,  you  see.  You 
were  n't  the  only  folks  who  had  some  beer  off  that 
Chinaman  the  day  he  come  along  first ;  me  and  my 
mates  had  some,  and  it  did  us  so  little  harm  that 
we  've  always  wanted  some  more.  So  I  Ve  been 


THE  COURIER  OF  DEATH  215 

lookin'  for  him  ever  since,  and  yesterday  I  found  him 
at  the  other  end  o'  the  diggin's,  away  past  Sailor'^ 
Gully.  And  why  do  you  suppose  he  'd  never  been 
near  us  again  ?  "  asked  the  big  black  man  without 
shifting  a  shoulder  from  either  door-post. 

"  I  do  n't  know,"  said  the  steward,  sulkily.  "  How 
should  I  ?  " 

"  How  should  you  ?  Because  you  told  him  never 
to  come  no  more  !  " 

"  He 's  a  liar,"  hissed  Jewson,  with  a  tremulous 
oath. 

"And  why  should  you  say  he  ever  came  at  all  ?  " 

"  Some  other  lie,  I  suppose,"  said  Jewson,  with 
another  oath. 

"  Because  you  told  him  to  :  went  to  the  other  end 
o'  the  diggin's  to  find  him ;  bought  a  bit  of  opium 
from  him,  and  told  him  to  bring  the  beer  next  day. 
Oh,  yes,  they  may  be  all  lies,"  said  the  big  digger, 
cheerfully,  "  but  then  again  they  may  not.  It 's  a 
rum  world,  mate,  especially  on  the  diggin's.  I  've 
known  worse  things  done  by  coves  I  wouldn't 
have  thought  it  of;  but  by  the  cut  of  your  jib  I 
should  say  you  was  capable  of  a  good  lot.  Boss 
down  driving,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Like  to  go  down  and  tell  him  now — like  me  to 
let  you  down  ? "  asked  Jewson,  with  a  venomous 
glitter  in  his  little  eyes. 

The  digger  laughed  heartily  in  his  face. 

"  No,  thank  you — not  without  a  third  party  handy 
to  keep  you  from  meddling  with  the  rope !  But  I 


2i6  DENIS    DENT 

can  wait,  my  friend,  and  I  can  come  again.  My 
claim  's  not  so  far  away,  and  I  '11  be  back  at  dinner- 
time if  not  before.  Of  course,  they  may  be  lies  as 
you  say ;  a  Chinaman 's  a  Chinaman,  and  that 's 
why  I  come  along  now  to  have  a  quiet  word  with 
you  first.  But  by  the  colour  o'  your  gills,  old  cock, 
I  do  n't  believe  they  are  lies.  So  now  you  know 
what 's  before  you  when  your  boss  comes  up.  He 
may  believe  you  and  send  me  to  the  devil,  but  he 's 
got  to  hear  my  yarn  and  judge  for  himself.  So 
there  it  is.  I  like  to  give  a  man  fair  warning,  and 
that  you  've  got." 

The  hut  doorway  was  no  longer  obstructed.  It 
framed  once  more  a  vivid  panel  of  parched  earth 
and  blinding  sky  with  a  windlass  and  a  stack  of 
wash-dirt  in  the  foreground.  But  the  hut  itself 
held  a  broken  ruffian  whose  ruin  stared  him  in  the 
face. 

One  thing  would  lead  to  another,  and  the  motive 
for  the  crime  be  readily  deduced  from  the  crime 
itself.  Jewson  saw  his  elaborate  plot  falling  asunder 
like  a  house  of  cards,  and  involving  himself  in  its 
destruction.  Devenish  had  not  been  a  month  at 
sea ;  letters  would  chase  him  round  the  Horn,  and 
the  truth  would  reach  England  almost  as  soon  as 
the  lies.  That  marriage  would  never  take  place. 
That  .£2000  would  never  be  paid.  That  hold  upon 
a  young  married  man  of  means  and  of  position 
would  not  be  given  to  Jewson  as  a  lifelong  asset 
after  all.  On  the  contrary,  the  petty  theft  might 


THE  COURIER  OF  DEATH  217 

be  brought  home  to  him,  and  he  might  go  to  the 
hulks  off  Williamstown  instead  of  back  to  England 
with  an  assured  competence  for  his  declining  years. 
He  did  not  believe  this  could  happen  to  him — he 
was  a  far-seeing  rogue — but  the  rest  would  follow 
as  surely  as  Denis  came  up  from  the  depths  and  the 
informer  returned  to  keep  his  word. 

Flight  seemed  the  only  course ;  a  successful 
flight  would  at  least  avert  the  most  unpleasant 
possibilities  of  the  case.  But  darker  thoughts 
passed  through  the  steward's  mind,  and  took  him 
stealthily  to  the  mouth  of  the  shaft.  A  dull  yet 
distinct  chip-chipping  was  audible  far  below  and 
out  of  sight  along  the  drive.  If  only  that  sound 
could  cease  forever !  If  only  the  maker  of  the 
sound  were  never  to  come  up  alive !  Then  every- 
thing would  be  simplified;  and  Captain  Devenish 
need  not  know  of  his  death  for  years.  Besides,  it 
was  an  accidental  death  of  which  Jewson  was  think- 
ing ;  he  had  looked  at  the  rope  with  the  bucket 
hanging  to  it,  but  only  to  remember  that  one  man 
at  least  was  prepared  for  even  that  villainy  at  his 
hands.  Jewson  shook  his  head.  He  was  not  so 
bad  as  all  that.  He  was  really  only  a  potential 
criminal,  who  had  seldom  put  himself  within  reach 
of  the  law.  He  might  wish  that  the  shaft  would 
fall  in  and  bury  his  enemy,  but  he  was  no  murderer 
even  in  his  heart. 

Suddenly  he  gave  a  start,  and  then  stood  very  still ; 
stepping  softly  to  the  far  side  of  the  shaft,  he  had 


218  DENIS    DENT 

come  suddenly  upon  a  huge  snake  curled  up  and  bask- 
ing on  the  hard  hot  ground.  It  was  not  the  sight, 
however,  that  made  Jewson  shiver;  that  was  not 
particularly  uncommon  or  untoward;  the  chilling 
thing  was  the  thought  that  had  flown  into  the  breast 
which  had  not  been  that  of  a  murderer  before. 
Now  it  was ;  but  even  now  the  mean  monster  did 
not  realize  that  the  temptation  upon  him  was  the 
temptation  of  Cain  ;  and  he  yielded  to  it,  villain  as 
he  was,  with  eyes  shut  to  the  enormity. 

The  dangling  bucket  was  gently  lifted  from  its 
hook,  was  nimbly  clapped  upon  the  sleeping  ser- 
pent, and  kept  in  position  with  one  foot ;  striding 
with  the  other  to  within  reach  of  the  heap  of  wash- 
dirt,  the  steward  filled  his  hat  with  this,  and  then 
reversing  the  bucket  with  equal  courage  and  dex- 
terity, had  the  snake  buried  in  the  stuff  in  an  in- 
stant, and  the  bucket  back  on  its  hook  in  another. 
A  quick  swing  over  the  side  of  the  shaft,  and  down 
went  the  bucket  of  its  own  weight,  with  the  snake 
already  hanging  over  one  edge.  But  Jewson  let 
every  inch  of  the  rope  run  red-hot  through  his 
hands,  to  lessen  the  noise  of  the  windlass ;  and  yet 
when  it  reached  the  bottom,  gently,  very  gently, 
there  was  the  chip-chipping  still  to  be  heard  in  the 
bowels  of  the  drift. 

Jewson  held  the  bucket,  as  near  as  he  could 
judge,  within  a  few  inches  of  the  bottom  of  the 
shaft ;  when  it  lightened  he  went  to  the  handle  of 
the  windlass  and  turned  it  slowly,  so  slowly  that 


THE  COURIER  OF  DEATH  219 

it  came  up  without  a  creak,  but  also  so  slowly  that 
minutes  passed  in  the  operation.  When  it  was  up 
he  flung  out  the  wash-dirt,  replaced  the  bucket  on 
its  hook,  and  craned  his  neck  over  the  lip  of  the 
shaft,  to  listen,  and  to  peer. 

A  very  faint  light  came  from  the  single  candle 
which  Denis  took  with  him  along  the  drive ;  it  just 
glimmered  upon  the  floor  of  the  shaft,  and  on  the 
wall  opposite  the  drive  ;  but  in  the  glimmer  nothing 
moved,  and  nothing  shone. 

The  steward  closed  his  eyes  and  put  a  hand  to 
either  ear.  The  chip-chipping  had  ceased.  There 
was  no  sound  at  all.  And  then,  but  not  till  then, 
did  the  criminal  realize  his  crime. 

He  drew  himself  up  with  an  uncontrollable  shud- 
der, and  looked  quickly  on  all  sides  of  him.  The 
sun  was  high  in  the  deep  blue  heavens.  The  white 
tents  in  the  gully  shimmered  in  its  glare.  No  one 
was  about  on  the  next  claim ;  all  were  under- 
ground, or  at  the  creek ;  no  human  eye  had  seen 
the  deed. 

Yet  the  skin  tightened  on  the  murderer's  skull, 
a  baleful  dew  broke  out  upon  it,  and  the  little  eyes 
for  once  grew  large  with  horror. 


CHAPTER  XXII 
ATRA  CURA 

THERE  are  few  more  attractive  houses 
near  London  than  one  that  shall  be  name- 
less in  these  pages :  enough  that  it  lends 
the  beauty  of  mellow  brick  and  sunken  tile  to  a 
hill-top  already  picturesquely  wooded,  but  a  dozen 
miles  from  the  Marble  Arch,  yet  in  the  country's 
very  heart,  on  a  main  road  where  the  inquisitive 
may  still  discover  it  for  themselves.  They  will 
have  to  choose,  it  is  true,  between  several  old 
houses  of  rosy  brick,  all  of  them  overrun  with  the 
rose  itself,  and  all  standing  rather  top  near  the  road. 
The  house  in  question  is  the  one  that  has  no  other 
fault.  It  is  the  house  with  the  plate-glass  porch, 
the  wide  bay  on  either  side,  the  luniform  bay  behind ; 
at  the  back  also  are  a  noble  lawn,  several  meadows, 
and  a  singular  avenue,  so  narrow  that  the  tall  trees 
meet  overhead  as  one.  Other  features  are  a  rose 
garden,  enclosed  in  the  ripest  of  all  the  old  red 
walls,  and  a  model  farm. 

To  this  pleasant  English  home  Mr.  Merridew 
and  his  daughter  returned  in  the  month  of  February, 
after  a  wearisome  but  uneventful  voyage  and  a  week 
or  two  at  the  St.  George's  Hotel  as  a  corrective.  A 


ATRA    CURA  221 

distinguished  physician  had  prescribed  a  month ; 
but  in  ten  days  Nan  had  all  the  new  clothes  she 
needed,  had  seen  all  the  plays  she  cared  to  see,  and 
went  in  such  fear  of  a  certain  topic  of  conversation, 
forced  upon  her  by  the  heedless,  that  it  was 
anguish  to  her  to  go  about.  So  one  of  the 
carriages  came  up  from  Hertfordshire,  and  on  a 
clear  but  chilly  afternoon  father  and  daughter  drove 
home  together. 

It  was  not  a  hearty  homecoming.  John 
Merridew  had  been  many  years  a  widower,  whose 
only  other  child  had  died  in  infancy.  But  the  old 
red  house  looked  warm  and  kindly;  the  servants 
stood  weeping  through  their  smiles;  the  firelit 
rooms  were  all  unchanged,  save  in  their  new 
promise  of  perfect  privacy ;  and  in  her  home  it  was 
grasped  from  the  first  that  Miss  Merridew  could  not 
bear  to  speak  about  the  wreck  of  the  North  Fore- 
land and  her  own  romantic  rescue  by  one  of  the 
officers.  Thus  she  had  no  occasion  to  explain  that 
she  was  engaged  to  him ;  and  Mr.  Merridew  left  the 
announcement  to  Nan. 

"  She  has  nothing  on  her  mind,  has  she  ? "  in- 
quired old  Dr.  Stone  after  an  early  call  as  physician 
and  friend. 

"  She  has  the  wreck  on  her  mind,"  replied  Mr. 
Merridew  promptly.  "  She  can't  even  speak  of  it, 
as  you  may  have  noticed." 

"  I  did  notice,  and  that 's  why  I  ask.  I  saw  the 
child  into  this  world,  my  dear  Merridew,  and  I  want 


222  DENIS    DENT 

to  dance  at  her  wedding  before  I  move  on  to  the 
next.  She  didn't  give  her  heart  for  her  life,  I 
suppose  ?  " 

"  You  must  ask  her  that  yourself,  doctor,"  the 
discreet  father  replied,  meeting  a  penetrating  look 
with  a  laugh.  And  a  firm  old  friend  retired  dis- 
satisfied and  rather  hurt.  But  so  the  engagement 
was  kept  a  secret  from  the  first. 

It  is  none  the  less  safe  to  assert  that  there  was 
not  a  waking  hour  of  these  early  days  in  which 
the  girl  was  oblivious  of  her  new  estate.  It 
weighed  on  her  mind  far  more  than  it  had  done 
at  sea,  though  there  she  had  missed  Denis  dread- 
fully, and  sometimes  with  a  resentment  which  she 
could  not  help.  She  had  formed  a  habit  of  thinking 
in  these  moods  of  her  last  conversation  with  Ralph 
Devenish;  it  was  the  only  cure.  But  fresh  cause 
for  displeasure  awaited  her  in  London.  The  voyage 
had  been  so  long  that  certain  Australian  packets 
had  given  the  Memnon  a  start  and  a  beating  ;  when 
Nan  learned  this  she  counted  on  a  letter,  but  there 
was  none.  She  studied  the  shipping  news  in  the 
Times.  More  vessels  arrived  from  Melbourne,  but 
from  Denis  never  a  word.  Sometimes  the  disap- 
pointment made  her  positively  ill ;  always  it  left  her 
tossing  between  the  Scylla  and  Charybdis  of 
terrible  alternatives.  Either  he  was  indifferent,  or 
else  he  was  dead.  And  when  she  deemed  him  in- 
different, there  were  things  unforgettable  that  made 
her  almost  wish  him  dead ;  but  when  the  terror  of 


ATRA    CURA  223 

his  death  came  over  her  in  its  turn,  then  she  prayed 
less  for  his  love  than  for  his  life. 

So  the  days  passed,  and  the  sea-bronze  soon 
faded  from  the  piquant  face,  leaving  it  pale  but 
petulant.  Nan  had  not  lost  her  spirit ;  she  was  one 
to  chafe  rather  than  to  fret,  but  to  do  neither  more 
openly  than  she  could  help.  She  kept  herself  up 
by  exercise  and  fresh  air.  It  was  hard,  bright 
weather,  a  little  wintry  still,  yet  with  that  promise 
of  spring  inseparable  from  the  longer  day  and  the 
lighter  sky.  There  were  even  twigs  with  green 
tips  to  them,  and  the  chestnut  branches  ended  in 
sticky  cones.  But  Nan  thought  of  the  spring  be- 
fore, when  she  had  met  with  no  adventures  and  had 
not  become  engaged  ;  her  obsession  followed  her  to 
all  her  favourite  places ;  and  in  her  daily  ride  along 
the  hard,  clean  roads,  the  black  imp  kept  its 
perch. 

Mr.  Merridew  was  not  the  man  to  note  all  this 
and  hold  his  peace,  for  he  had  small  tact  where  his 
feelings  were  engaged ;  but  he  was  so  little  at  home 
that  it  was  easy  to  deceive  him  ;  and  his  first  con- 
versation with  Nan  on  the  subject  was  really  started 
in  the  city,  where  his  partner,  Ralph's  father,  had 
been  inveighing  against  the  Dents  with  the  unbridled 
bitterness  begotten  of  a  family  feud. 

"  To  think  of  the  son  of  that  marriage  sneaking 
into  our  line,  under  his  own  accursed  name  !  It 's 
so  common ;  and  I  had  no  idea  the  fellow  was  at 
sea ;  but  now  I  know  how  we  lost  our  ship.  You 


224  DENIS    DENT 

may  shake  your  head,  Merridew ;  was  n't  she  lost  in 
his  watch  ?  You  do  n't  know  the  breed  as  I  know 
it,  and  I  suppose  you're  grateful  to  the  fellow. 
But  what  good  object  could  he  have  had  in  choosing 
our  line  of  all  others  ?  " 

"  To  rise  in  it,"  replied  Merridew  with  some 
warmth :  "  to  be  revenged  on  you  that  way,  not 
the  other.  And  I  happen  to  know,  because  he  told 
Nan." 

"  Told  her  that,  did  he  ?  After  the  wreck,  I  take 
it,  when  decency  obliged  you  all  to  listen  to  the 
fellow  ?  By  the  Lord,  but  you  were  lucky  if  that 's 
all  he  told  her !  His  father  would  have  taken  ad- 
vantage of  the  situation,  and  married  himself  into 
the  family  before  you  knew  where  you  were ! " 

It  was  no  mere  lack  of  moral  courage  that  de- 
terred John  Merridew  from  the  admission  which 
rose  naturally  to  his  lips.  He  no  longer  regarded 
as  inevitable  the  marriage  to  which  he  had  con- 
sented in  his  agitation  after  the  wreck,  and  to  men- 
tion it  to  Ralph's  father,  when  Ralph  himself  had 
evidently  not  done  so  in  his  letters,  seemed  an  alto- 
gether needless  indiscretion.  He  was,  however,  a 
peculiarly  conscientious  man,  who  would  have  much 
preferred  to  have  stated  the  fact ;  not  having  done 
so,  he  had  a  curious  desire  to  alter  the  fact  to  suit 
his  silence ;  and  so  struck  his  first  blow  at  Denis, 
more  heavily  than  he  intended,  that  very  night. 

"  No,"  said  Nan  in  answer  to  his  question.  "  No, 
I  have  not  heard  from  him  yet." 


ATRA    CUR  A  225 

"  Not  a  word  ?  " 

"  Not  yet,  papa.  Surely  you  knew  ?  You  may 
be  certain  I  shall  not  keep  it  to  myself  when  I  do 
hear." 

There  was  a  double  reproach,  of  which  her  father 
felt  his  share,  in  the  sudden  bitterness  with  which 
the  girl  spoke.  But  John  Merridew  had  now  con- 
vinced himself  that  he  had  a  parental  duty  to  per- 
form, that  cruelty  was  the  only  kindness,  and  some 
little  exaggeration  justifiable  to  that  end. 

"  It  is  most  extraordinary,"  he  murmured.  "  I 
never  heard  of  a  more  extraordinary  thing ! " 

"  I  do  n't  see  that  at  all,"  replied  Nan,  hotly. 
"  You  know  what  he  is  doing,  and  I  know  he  is 
doing  it  with  all  his  might.  What  time  can  he 
have  for  letters — digging  all  day — and  what  oppor- 
tunity— living  in  a  hut  ?  " 

"  But  that 's  what  is  so  extraordinary,"  pursued 
Mr.  Merridew.  "  That  he  should  have  elected  to 
stay  behind  to  do  all  that !  " 

"  You  know  it  was  for  my  sake  !  "  exclaimed  the 
girl,  tears  in  her  eyes.  "  Oh,  you  are  unkind  to  us 
both  !  He  would  not  marry  until  he  had  something 
to  marry  on,  something  of  his  own ;  and  there  he 
was  where  people  were  making  fortunes  in  a  day  ! 
Whatever  I  may  feel,  you  ought  to  respect  him  for 
doing  what  he  has  done.  But  it  should  n't  have 
been  necessary  for  him  to  do  it,  and  you  were  the 
one  to  make  it  unnecessary." 

"  I  ? "    cried  Mr.   Merridew,  quite   taken  aback. 


226  DENIS    DENT 

"  Why,  my  dear  child,  what  more  could  I  have 
done  ?  " 

"  You  might  have  taken  him  into  the  office ; 
you  might  have  promised  him  a  partnership  one 
day.  If  he  does  n't  deserve  well  of  you,  I  do  n't 
know  who  does ;  and  you  know  how  clever  he  is, 
and  how  he  would  have  worked  to  deserve  all  the 
more!  It  might  have  been  an  unusual  thing  to 
do,"  Nan  added,  with  a  sudden  sense  that  she  was 
talking  wildly.  "  Nevertheless,  I  have  always 
thought  it  a  thing  you  might  have  done." 

She  had,  indeed,  thought  it  for  some  time ;  but, 
after  all,  the  notion  had  first  occurred  to  Mr.  Merri- 
dew  himself;  and  in  all  the  circumstances  he  was 
not  disposed  to  suppress  the  fact  another  moment. 

"  My  dearest  Nan,"  said  he,  gently,  "  it  is  the 
very  thing  I  did  ! " 

She  looked  at  him  with  blank,  unseeing  eyes. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  papa?" 

"  I  actually  offered  him  that  very  opening,  with 
every  prospect  of  partnership  that  single  partner 
could  hold  out." 

"When?"  asked  Nan  after  a  further  pause. 
Her  voice  had  changed. 

"  The  first  time  I  saw  him  after  the  wreck.  It 
was  too  late.  He  had  heard  of  the  diggings,  and 
he  would  hear  of  nothing  else." 

"  Why  did  you  never  tell  me  before  ?  " 

"  My  dear  child,  need  you  ask  ?  I  thought  it 
would  hurt  you,"  said  Mr.  Merridew;  and  the 


ATRA   CURA  227 

tender  compassion  in  his  voice  was  not  unmingled 
with  remorse,  for  Nan  had  turned  very  pale,  and 
her  lip  quivered. 

"  It  does,"  she  said,  simply.  "  No  doubt  that 
was  why  he  did  not  tell  me  either,"  she  added,  and 
the  quivering  lip  curled.  In  a  minute  she  crossed 
over  to  her  father's  chair  and  kissed  him  without 
emotion.  "  I  am  afraid  I  have  been  very  rude, 
besides  misjudging  you  so  strangely.  But — but 
do  n't  let  us  misjudge  anybody  else  until  we  must — 
or  speak  of  him  again  until  we  hear." 

But  it  was  harder  now  to  believe  the  best,  harder 
yet  to  look  back  without  a  passionate  shame  and 
indignation  which  in  their  intensity  surpassed  all 
that  the  girl  had  yet  endured.  She  came  down 
paler  and  paler  in  the  mornings.  It  was  because 
she  had  lain  such  a  fiery  red  half  the  night — in  the 
ti-tree  thicket  of  her  waking  nightmare.  She  could 
not  know  how  her  feelings  had  been  foreseen,  nay, 
endured  from  the  first  on  her  behalf.  She  only 
knew  that  never  in  the  morning  was  there  the  letter 
for  which  she  looked — and  almost  loathed  herself 
for  looking — nor  yet  ever  toward  evening,  when 
the  postman  came  again,  and  Nan  watched  for  him, 
openly  or  in  hiding  as  pride  or  passion  might  prevail. 

All  this  time,  but  now  more  than  ever,  the  girl 
filled  her  life  with  a  resolution  which  declared  her 
calibre.  She  regained  touch  with  her  friends 
throughout  the  countryside.  She  visited  the  vil- 
lagers, managed  her  father's  house  with  increased 


228  DENIS    DENT 

capability,  and  no  longer  discouraged  him  from 
entertaining,  as  her  inclination  had  been  for  a  time. 
People  who  stayed  in  the  house  found  its  young 
mistress  brighter  in  a  way  than  they  had  ever 
known  her.  But  that  was  the  form  of  hospitality 
Nan  relished  least.  As  spring  advanced  she  was 
more  and  more  out  of  doors,  on  horseback  or  afoot ; 
but  in  the  open  air  she  still  preferred  to  be  alone, 
and  would  advertise  the  fact  by  carrying  a  book  on 
all  her  walks.  She  had  taken  to  reading  as  she  had 
never  read  before,  in  a  way  at  once  desultory  and 
omnivorous.  And  it  was  in  a  tome  from  her 
father's  shelves,  to  wit  Southey's  "  Early  British 
Poets,"  that  a  sudden  beam  of  comfort  and  en- 
lightenment shot  into  her  soul  from  the  immortal 
lines  of  Lovelace  to  Lucasta : — 

"  Yet  this  inconstancy  is  such, 

As  you  too  shall  adore  ; 
I  could  not  love  thee,  dear,  so  much, 
Lov'd  I  not  honour  more." 

Nan  knew  the  lines  as  a  quotation.  Why,  why 
had  she  ever  forgotten  them  ?  Why  had  she  never 
once  thought  of  them  in  all  these  weeks  of  doubt 
and  pain  ?  They  put  the  case  for  Denis  in  a  nut- 
shell ;  and  the  quatrains  before  the  quotation  were 
hardly  less  poignant  in  their  appeal,  though  Denis's 
"  new  mistress  "  was  not  war  but  wealth.  Ah,  if 
it  had  been  war  !  And  war  was  already  in  the  whole 
air  of  England  ;  but  on  the  gold-fields  there  was  no 
reason  to  think  him  other  than  safe  and  sound. 


ATRA   CURA  229 

So  powerfully  was  she  affected  and  inspired  that 
Nan  showed  the  lines  to  her  father  that  night.  It 
had  often  troubled  her  that  he  must  think  ill  of 
Denis  ;  that  was  a  more  hurtful  thing  than  thinking 
ill  of  him  herself — who  had  the  right.  So  she 
showed  the  open  book  to  Mr.  Merridew,  counting 
unconsciously  on  his  sentimental  side,  and  not  in 
vain. 

"  There,"  she  said,  "  that  is  what  I  have  been 
wanting  to  say  for  him  all  these  weeks.  There 
speaks  Denis  himself.  He  has  called  to  me  from 
the  other  end  of  the  world.  I  was  thinking  of  him 
when  I  went  for  a  book,  and  I  put  my  hand  on  this 
one,  and  I  opened  it  at  this  place  !  " 

Mr.  Merridew  was  full  of  sympathy — a  quality 
in  which  he  was  rarely  deficient  when  there  was 
trouble  in  the  air ;  besides,  he  cherished  the  most 
genuine  desire  for  his  daughter's  happiness.  If  she 
could  be  happy  believing  in  Dent,  well  and  good, 
and  it  might  all  come  right  yet.  The  great  thing 
was  that  despite  her  energies  she  had  been  pensive 
and  wan  for  many  a  day,  but  that  now  she  was 
flushed  and  bright. 

"  Believe  in  him,  dear  ! "  she  whispered  in  her 
father's  ear,  her  arm  round  his  neck. 

"  I  always  did,  Nan,"  he  answered,  stroking  her 
hair. 

"  No,  not  always ;  but  you  did  once,  and  you  will 
again." 

"  Very  well,  Nan." 


230  DENIS    DENT 

"  From  this  moment ! " 

"No;  not  from  this  momer*,"  said  Mr.  Merri- 
dew,  characteristically  seeking  to  justify  his  former 
asseveration,  "  when  not  for  a  single  moment  have  I 
ceased  to  bless  him  for  preserving  my  darling's  life. 
How  could  I  disbelieve  in  him  in  my  heart  after 
that  ?  If  I  have  ever  done  so  it  has  been  when  I 
have  seen  you  sad  and  sorry.  But  when  I  think  of 
all  he  did  for  you " 

"  Do  n't ;  please  do  n't ! " 

Her  face  was  hidden  against  him.  He  might 
have  felt  its  heat.  But  it  was  in  the  plain  troubles 
only  that  he  was  a  sympathetic  man. 

"  But  I  must,"  he  rejoined  cheerily.  "  We  must 
not  forget  all  he  did,  and  I  am  afraid  we  have. 
Why,  Nan,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  am  going." 

"  But  why  ?     What  have  I  said  ?  " 

"  Nothing — nothing — only  I  wish  he  had  let  me 
drown — I  wish  that ! " 

And  with  this  hard  saying  the  girl  was  gone, 
with  tears  that  puzzled  John  Merridew  to  his  dy- 
ing day,  and  flaming  cheeks  that  dried  them  as  they 
ran. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
BROKEN  OFF 

ONE  afternoon  Mr.  Merridew  came  home  in 
a  state  of  suppressed  excitement  which  was 
none  the  less  manifest  to  Nan's  first  glance. 
It  was  late  in  April,  and  he  found  her  on  the  lawn 
behind  the  house.  Cuckoos  were  calling  in  the 
narrow  avenue,  now  faintly  dusted  with  palest  gold  ; 
lesser  trees  had  reached  the  stage  of  emeralds,  and 
a  horse-chestnut  on  the  lawn  was  parading  a  thou- 
sand pairs  of  light-green  gloves.  The  radiant  after- 
noon sky  changed  into  that  of  a  serene  evening  as 
father  and  daughter  stood  face  to  face. 

"  Who  do  you  think  arrived  in  London  this  morn- 
ing ?  Ralph  Devenish ! "  he  said,  speaking  the 
name  in  haste  as  her  colour  went. 

"  Indeed ! "  she  remarked,  and  bit  her  lip  to 
hide  the  hope  that  she  had  cherished  for  one 
instant. 

"  Poor  fellow,"  continued  Mr.  Merridew,  with  his 
facile  sympathy  for  the  luckless,  "  he  is  terribly  up- 
set !  The  last  English  news  he  had  on  sailing  was 
not  later  than  last  October ;  of  course  they  touched 
nowhere,  so  he  had  no  idea  there  was  war  with  Rus- 
sia until  this  morning.  It  is  his  battalion  of  the 


232  DENIS    DENT 

Grenadiers  that  went  to  the  Black  Sea  with  the  rest 
of  the  Guards  two  months  ago ;  and  here  he  has 
been  cooling  his  heels  in  perfect  innocence  at  sea ! 
Of  course  he  reported  himself  without  a  minute's 
delay  to  the  authorities,  and  now  awaits  their  pleas- 
ure in  a  perfect  fever  of  disappointment  and  profes- 
sional ardour.  He  says  he  has  been  in  the  service 
all  these  years  without  hearing  an  angry  shot,  and 
now  after  all  he  may  miss  the  fun  !  A  gallant  sol- 
dier, Nan,  whatever  else  he  may  be !  " 

"  I  should  hope  so,"  the  girl  said,  simply  and 
without  scorn.  Her  mind  had  not  crossed  the  seas 
with  Ralph.  "  Did  he  really  go  to  the  diggings?" 
she  asked  in  a  constrained  voice. 

"  Yes,  and  did  very  fairly  there ;  what  is  more,  my 
dear,  he  saw  something  of  Denis  Dent." 

The  girl  was  galvanized.  "  Was  he  well  ?  "  she 
whispered  in  a  breath. 

"  Perfectly,  when  Ralph  left,  which  was  only  in 
January." 

Nan  filled  her  lungs,  and  for  the  moment  her 
soul  sang  praises ;  but  for  a  moment  only.  If  he 
was  well,  why  had  he  never  written  ?  Her  indigna- 
tion had  free  play  for  the  first  time  in  all  these 
months  ;  she  could  better  have  borne  to  hear  he  had 
been  ill,  if  only  he  were  well  again ;  for  then  she 
could  have  understood,  then  there  would  have  been 
nothing  to  forgive. 

"  He  was  not  only  well,"  continued  Mr.  Merridew, 
with  outward  reluctance,  not  altogether  an  affacta- 


BROKEN   OFF  233 

tion,  "  but  he  was  doing  uncommonly  well — far  bet- 
ter than  poor  Ralph !  " 

Doing  uncommonly  well !  And  yet  he  could  not 
write. 

"  And  where  is  Ralph  ? "  asked  Nan,  in  a  hard 
voice,  and  with  that  old  hard  light  in  her  hazel  eyes. 

Mr.  Merridew  stood  covered  with  a  guilty  con- 
fusion. 

"  Nan,  would  you  see  him  if  he  came  to  see 
you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  would.  Why  not  ?  I  should  like 
to  see  Ralph  particularly." 

"  My  dear,  he  did  n't  know ;  he  was  greatly  afraid 
it  would  be  just  the  other  way.  But  since  you  say 
that,  I  must  tell  you  he  is  within  a  hundred  yards 
of  where  you  stand,  waiting  in  the  road  to  know 
whether  you  would  see  him  or  not." 

Nan  was  annoyed  at  this ;  it  was  giving  romantic 
colour  to  a  meeting  which  should  have  been  per- 
fectly natural  and  dispassionate  on  both  sides ;  and 
on  hers  it  was  too  dispassionate,  and  not  natural 
enough,  in  consequence.  Yet  she  wore -a  flush 
which  might  have  flattered  a  less  vain  man  than 
Ralph  Devenish ;  and  as  for  him  he  looked  nicer 
than  she  had  ever  known  him,  in  the  shabby  suit 
which  was  the  best  that  remained  of  his  Australian 
outfit,  with  the  deep  bronze  upon  his  sallow  face,  and 
with  inches  added  to  his  splendid  whiskers.  There 
was  also,  in  him,  a  strange  absence  of  arriere- 
pensee,  psychologically  more  interesting  than  she 


234  DENIS    DENT 

dreamed ;  it  was  he  who  told  her  of  Denis,  unasked, 
in  perhaps  his  second  breath. 

"  Oh,  I  did  decently,"  said  Ralph,  "  and  might 
have  done  really  well  had  I  stuck  to  it.  But  that 
cousin  of  mine — that 's  the  man !  He  had  some 
luck,  though  no  more  than  he  deserved ;  but  when 
I  came  away  he  was  the  talk  of  his  gully,  to  say  the 
least.  If  he  has  realized  half  the  prophecies  I  heard 
before  I  left  he  must  be  a  wealthy  man  by  this 
time." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  he  has  been  lucky  from 
the  beginning  ?  "  asked  Nan,  her  incredulity  strangely 
tinctured  with  disgust;  and  she  brightened  as  per- 
versely when  she  heard  the  truth.  For  it  was  the 
truth  about  Denis,  so  far  as  he  knew  it,  that  Ralph 
told  Nan  this  April  evening.  He  was  cast  for  he 
knew  not  what  part  of  bold  duplicity ;  all  he  saw 
clearly  was  the  end,  and  to  that  he  was  prepared  to 
plough  his  way  through  all  dishonour,  as  a  traveler 
steels  himself  against  every  obstacle  between  him 
and  the  one  light  twinkling  through  the  trees.  The 
light  was  very  brilliant  in  this  sweet  spring  dusk, 
before  his  eyes  yet  not  within  his  reach.  It  dazzled 
him,  the  light  of  the  face  he  loved ;  and  love  he 
did,  the  more  passionately,  not  the  less,  for  the 
sacrifice  of  his  honour  that  he  had  made  already  in 
his  heart.  To  look  through  the  sweet  English  dusk 
into  her  eyes,  to  hear  her  voice  through  the  even- 
song of  the  dear  old  English  birds,  was  to  feel  a 
final  hardening  of  every  unscrupulous  resolve.  And 


BROKEN   OFF  235- 

yet  honour  dies  hard  in  the  type  to  which  Ralph 
Devenish  belonged ;  it  was  dying  so  hard  in  Ralph 
that  he  was  glad  to  tell  the  truth  while  he  might, 
glad  to  speak  well  and  kindly  of  the  man  he  was  to 
thwart  in  life  by  fair  means  or  by  foul. 

So  Nan  heard  of  Denis's  early  unsuccess,  and 
was  thankful ;  a  proud  silence  she  could  understand 
and  might  learn  to  forgive.  And  she  was  only  less 
grateful  for  the  way  Ralph  spoke  of  him ;  yet  be 
it  remembered  to  Ralph's  credit,  or  what  was  left 
of  it,  that  his  tone,  if  assumed,  was  no  device  to 
win  Nan's  gratitude  as  it  actually  did. 

Her  satisfaction  diminished  as  she  heard  of  the 
wonderful  doings  on  the  new  claim.  Yet,  after  all, 
he  had  only  been  there  a  fortnight  when  Ralph 
left,  and  so  immediate  a  success  would  in  itself  ac- 
count for  much.  It  must  absorb  every  energy  and 
every  hour. 

"  Hand  over  fist ! "  said  Ralph,  laughing  genially. 
"  That 's  how  the  fellow  was  taking  out  the  gold 
when  I  came  away ;  at  least,  so  I  heard." 

"  Then  you  did  n't  see  much  of  him  yourself  ?  " 

"  No,  not  much." 

He  might  have  added  "  naturally " ;  but  the 
word  was  implied  in  his  tone,  which  itself  was  as 
natural  as  could  be.  Nan  noted  and  admired  it. 
She  was  becoming  more  and  more  impressed  with 
the  general  improvement  in  her  companion.  But 
it  was  another  thought  that  kept  her  silent  as  they 
strolled  to  and  fro  upon  the  twilit  sward. 


236  DENIS    DENT 

"  I  suppose  it  is  all  in  gold-dust,"  she  speculated. 
"  I  know  it  is  not  in  nuggets." 

"  Oh,  is  n't  it  ? "  he  said  quickly.  "  Then  you 
have  heard  ?  " 

Nan  bit  her  lip. 

"  No,  I  have  not  heard,  and  you  know  I 
have  n't !  "  she  exclaimed  with  more  tartness  than 
discretion. 

"  My  dear  Nan,  how  could  I  know  ?  "  he  asked, 
and  with  the  utmost  readiness,  though  her  father 
had  lost  no  time  in  informing  him  of  the  fact. 

"  I  thought  you  must  know,"  she  said  with  a  sigh 
that  touched  him  and  yet  rankled.  "  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Ralph.  As  for  the  nuggets,  he  promised 
to  send  me  the  first  one  he  found,  for  luck ;  and  he 
never  broke  a  promise  in  his  life." 

"  Perhaps  it  was  too  big  to  send,"  said  Ralph, 
with  his  new  and  kindly  laugh.  "  Or  perhaps," 
he  added,  stopping  in  his  walk,  "  perhaps  this  is 
it!" 

A  parlour-maid  was  approaching  with  a  small 
salver.  Nan  raised  her  downcast  eyes,  and  at  a 
glance  stood  rooted  to  the  spot.  There  was  no 
letter  on  the  salver,  but  there  was  a  very  small 
brown-paper  parcel,  which  Nan  seized  and  held  in 
the  half-light  to  her  dancing  eyes.  And  then  for 
one  unconscious  instant  she  pressed  it  with  both 
hands  to  her  bosom. 

"  Oh,  Ralph !  "  she  cried  in  a  voice  like  the  song 
of  a  lark.  "  Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  a  coinci- 


BROKEN   OFF  237 

dence  in  your  life  ?  It  is  n't  one — it 's  a  miracle  ! 
Look :  his  writing,  the  Melbourne  postmark  :  the 
nugget  he  promised  me,  come  as  we  were  speaking 
about  it,  from  the  other  end  of  the  world  ! " 

Ralph  set  his  teeth  grimly  ;  he  had  brought  these 
confidences  on  himself,  and  Heaven  alone  knew 
how  much  more.  He  had  not  tampered  with  the 
parcel  which  Jewson  had  given  him  before  he  left 
the  diggings ;  here  it  was  as  he  had  posted  it  in 
Melbourne,  as  it  had  lain  in  its  mail-bag  between 
the  same  wooden  walls  which  had  been  his  own 
prison  for  the  last  three  months.  He  had  no  idea 
what  the  parcel  contained  ;  from  Jewson's  face  and 
manner,  as  he  remembered  them  at  the  last,  Ralph 
did  not  think  it  was  the  nugget.  But  with  a  villain 
like  that  you  never  knew :  he  might  have  gone 
straight  over  to  the  other  side,  the  richer  side  even 
then. 

Nan  was  too  excited  to  notice  Ralph's  excite- 
ment, and  yet  it  was  greater  than  hers.  In  her 
heart  there  was  no  longer  the  least  suspense.  This 
was  the  nugget.  She  was  alive  once  more ;  and 
the  world  she  had  maligned  in  her  heart,  it  was  a 
dear  world  after  all.  Neither  was  Ralph  its  least 
dear  denizen.  Here  was  his  penknife,  out  in  a  mo- 
ment, one  blade  open ;  she  never  noted  how  it 
trembled  as  it  cut  the  string.  She  was  even 
unaware  that  Ralph  stood  looking  over  her 
shoulder,  for  it  was  by  pure  instinct  that  she  had 
turned  away. 


238  DENIS    DENT 

Nor  was  there  much  for  Ralph  to  see  :  what  he 
first  perceived  was  the  difference  in  Nan.  She  was 
standing  as  in  stone  or  wax,  as  breathless,  as 
motionless,  as  unbending,  as  unalive  to  the  eye. 
Over  her  shoulder,  as  in  a  waxen  palm,  he  saw  the 
glint  and  glimmer  of  a  ring  with  three  small  stones 
of  different  hues.  Then  something  fell,  and  he 
stooped  to  pick  it  up.  In  an  instant  her  heel  was 
on  it,  crushing  it  into  the  soft  grass,  but  not  before 
he  had  looked  upon  a  plaited  guard  of  finest  hair. 
The  shade  was  her  own  dark-gold;  it  seemed  to 
Devenish  that  the  very  curl  of  her  ringlets  was  pre- 
served in  the  plaited  wisp  which  he  saw  for  an 
instant  in  the  grass.  He  had  the  tact  to  pretend  he 
had  not  seen  it,  to  turn  away  and  search  further 
afield.  But  in  his  heart  he  was  raging  and  railing 
against  the  author  of  this  unforeseen  infamy. 
What  a  devilish  dodge  !  What  a  cruel  and  what  a 
dastardly  deception !  Had  he  known  of  it  he 
never  would  have  posted  the  thing ;  and  yet,  now 
that  he  did  know,  was  he  to  tell  her  ?  If  so,  what 
was  he  to  tell  ? 

The  parcel  might  have  been  made  up  by  Denis, 
for  all  Ralph  actually  knew.  Denis  might  be  false 
for  all  he  knew,  the  traditional  sailor  with  the  wife 
in  every  port.  Ralph's  heart  lightened  at  the 
thought ;  after  all,  how  could  he  know  ?  It  was 
the  triumph  of  a  diabolical  genius  that  he  could 
know  nothing  absolutely,  that  he  could  lay  this 
unction  to  his  soul  at  every  step,  if  he  lacked  the 


BROKEN   OtFF  239 

pluck  to  look  his  villainy  in  the  face.  And  for  the 
moment  his  embarrassment  made  Ralph  Devenish 
as  mean  a  villain  as  crawled  the  earth. 

Nan  was  speaking.  She  might  have  been  yards 
away  instead  of  inches.  He  heard  her  faintly  as  he 
groped. 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  I  found  what  I  dropped. 
Thanks  for  troubling.  I  am  going  in,  I  think. 
There — there  was  no  letter  after  all."  So  she  ex- 
plained the  heart-break  in  her  voice ;  nothing  else 
would  have  betrayed  her. 

She  found  herself  in  her  room.  The  candles  were 
lighted.  Yes,  that  was  her  face,  and  she  could  look 
in  it  calmly,  more  calmly  than  many  a  time  in  her 
suspense.  Her  shame  was  not  deeper  than  it  had 
been  ever  since  the  day  of  her  deplorable  escape 
from  kindly  death.  To  know  the  worst  is  often  less 
terrible  than  to  fear  it.  That  is  one  of  Nature's 
mercies,  and  Nan  felt  it  in  a  moment.  She  was 
blessed  with  the  strong  heart  and  the  clear  eye. 
She  saw  everything  that  was  to  be  seen  of  her  case, 
and  she  flinched  at  nothing  that  she  saw.  Only,  as 
she  sat  before  her  glass  in  the  chilly  candle-light, 
she  seemed  to  be  looking  upon  another  person,  and 
into  another  heart. 

An  hour  later  she  was  shining  with  a  hard  ra- 
diance at  the  little  dinner-table.  Fine  wines  were 
brought  up  in  the  wanderer's  honour  ;  for  once  Nan 
let  them  fill  her  glass.  Her  mood  was  not  unlike 
that  of  Ralph.  He  was  equally  determined  to  talk 


240  DENIS    DENT 

and  not  to  think.  They  rattled  on  together  like  the 
oldest  and  the  warmest  friends.  She  sympathized 
with  his  disappointment  and  anxiety  about  the  war, 
but  hoped  they  would  not  send  him  out  too  soon, 
and  could  have  groaned  when  he  told  her  with  airy 
cunning  that  it  was  quite  on  the  cards  that  they 
might  not  meet  again.  He  took  her  out  of  herself; 
he  also  gave  her  an  unreasonable  sense  of  retalia- 
tion. She  certainly  desired  to  see  him  again,  and 
told  him  so  frankly  when  he  left. 

Mr.  Merridew  was  too  puzzled  to  enjoy  the  other 
sensations  which  knocked  for  admittance  to  his 
mind.  Devenish  had  told  him  nothing  of  the 
garden  incident,  partly  from  instinctive  discretion, 
partly  from  a  reluctance  to  enlarge  the  circle  of  his 
dupes  before  he  must ;  but  no  sooner  was  he  gone 
than  Nan  beckoned  her  father  into  the  drawing- 
room  and  shut  the  door  behind  them  both. 

"  Here  is  a  ring,"  she  said.  "  I  want  you  to 
keep  it  for  me  in  your  safe — at  least,  for  Mr. 
Dent." 

It  was  not  the  ring  that  had  traveled  back  to  her 
from  Ballarat.  It  was  his  father's  ring,  that  Denis 
had  lent  her.  And  she  had  worn  it  about  her  neck 
since  landing  in  England,  because  that  was  the  way 
he  was  forced  to  wear  hers,  and  it  was  nearer  her 
heart,  but  away  from  prying  eyes.  Mr.  Merridew 
took  it  between  finger  and  thumb. 

"  Mr.  Dent !  "  he  echoed.  "  What  in  the  world 
has  happened  ?  " 


BROKEN   OFF  241 

"  Nothing  terrible ;  only  our  engagement  is 
broken  off." 

"  You  have  heard  from  him,  then  ?  " 

"  Yes,  this  evening." 

"  And  this  is  how  he  breaks  his  insulting 
silence  ! " 

Already  the  father  was  trembling  with  rage  and 
indignation ;  the  girl  was  curiously  serene. 

"  He  does  n't  even  break  it,"  she  said.  "  He 
simply  does  what  we  arranged  that  either  of  us 
should  do  if  we  ever  changed.  And  he  is  quite 
right." 

"  Right !  "  cried  Mr.  Merridew.  "  Quite  right  ? 
Is  the  girl  gone  mad  ?  The  heartless  blackguard, 
the  insolent  snob !  But  you  are  well  rid  of  him, 
you  are  well  rid." 

Nan  recoiled,  stricken  but  roused.  "  You  hurt 
me  once  by  reminding  me  of  things,"  she  said 
quickly,  in  a  low  and  passionate  voice.  "  Do  n't 
hurt  me  more  by  forcing  me  to  remind  you  of 
them.  We  made  our  own  arrangement  in  the  after 
saloon  on  board  the  Memnon  when  we  said  good- 
bye. It  has  nothing  to  do  with  anybody  else, 
and  nobody  else  can  say  a  word  against  him  if  I  do 
not." 

"  And  do  n't  you  ?  "  he  cried.  "  And  do  you 
mean  to  say  you  do  n't  ?  " 

"  Not  a  syllable,"  said  the  girl.  "  He  has  done 
the  honest  thing." 

"  The  honest  thing  !  " 


242  DENIS    DENT 

"  He  could  not  pretend  if  he  would." 
"  And  you  do  n't  despise  him  for  it — you  have 
no  contempt  for  him  ?  " 

Nan  looked  steadily  on  her  father's  horror. 

"  I  honour  him  for  it,  as  I  always  have,"  she  said. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
DEATH'S  DOOR 

CHIP,  chip,  chip,  rang  the  driving-pick  along 
the  top  of  the  drive,  as  it  pricked  its  way 
from  left  to  right,  leaving  a  chain  of  holes 
in  the  rude  right-angle  under  the  arch ;  and  chip, 
chip,  back  the  other  way,  between  the  holes, 
till  they  united  in  one  curved  crevice,  wherein  the 
fingers  could  be  passed  from  wall  to  wall,  and  the 
continued  stability  of  the  roof  felt  with  the  knuckles. 
Then  a  spell  of  harder  and  less  cautious  hitting,  an 
interval  of  falling  chunk  and  showering  gravel,  a 
period  of  irritation  to  throat  and  eyes.  Presently  a 
downward  stroke,  with  more  power  behind  it  the 
lower  one  got ;  and  in  the  end  an  advance  from  top 
to  bottom  of  as  many  inches  as  the  introductory 
crevice  had  been  deep.  So  slaved  Denis  in  his 
drive;  so  was  he  slaving  when  Jewson  just  heard 
him  from  above,  on  the  /th  of  February,  1854. 

It  meant  lying  prone  in  the  earth  by  the  hour 
together,  an  elbow  pillowed  in  the  morning's  debris, 
the  body  aching  in  every  inch.  It  meant  a  com- 
plete skin  of  the  mud  of  dust  and  dirt  and  copious 
perspiration.  It  meant  an  atmosphere  heated  and 


244  DENIS    DENT 

poisoned  by  the  flame  of  a  single  candle,  a  tickling 
throat,  a  trickling  eye,  an  intermittent  rigour  of  the 
lower  limbs,  a  daily  foretaste  of  paralysis.  But  it 
also  meant  a  continuous  excitement  and  an  endur- 
ing satisfaction  which  to  Denis  were  worth  all  these 
evils  at  once  and  at  their  worst.  The  drift  was  as 
rich  as  ever ;  and  now  it  needed  neither  pan  nor 
cradle  to  tell  him  so.  He  knew  it  at  a  glance, 
knew  it  by  the  light  of  his  solitary  candle.  So  far 
the  wash-dirt  had  yielded  a  little  more  or  a  little 
less  to  the  tub ;  its  outward  characteristics  had  not 
altered  ;  but  they  always  might.  At  any  moment, 
after  the  next  blow  with  the  driving-pick,  or  the 
next — or  the  next — a  change  might  be  observable. 
It  could  hardly  be  a  change  for  the  better;  thus 
each  unchanged  handful  was  to  the  good,  and  the 
uncertainty  of  every  minute  its  fascination.  Leads 
and  gutters  were  notoriously  capricious,  and  Denis 
was  prepared  for  any  caprice  but  the  one  that  he 
encountered  this  very  morning. 

He  had  prolonged  the  roof  a  few  more  inches ; 
the  new  chain  of  holes  had  resolved  itself  into  an- 
other semicircular  crevice,  and  to  the  knuckles  the 
fresh  roof  was  as  firm  as  the  old.  Denis  was  deal- 
ing the  random  blows  which  were  always  a  relief  to 
him  after  this  niggling  work,  when  suddenly  noth- 
ing fell,  but  the  pick-handle  dragged  at  his  hand. 
The  point  of  the  pick  had  stuck ;  he  gave  it  a 
gentle  unavailing  tug,  but  it  was  high  up  under  the 
arch,  and  he  had  to  alter  his  position  before  he 


DEATH'S   DOOR  245 

could  pull  with  any  power.  By  this  time  he  was 
trembling  like  a  leaf;  and  still  the  pick  stuck 
fast. 

He  drew  his  legs  up  under  him,  left  the  pick  em- 
bedded, and  began  prodding  near  it  with  his  knife. 
Presently  the  knife  stuck  too ;  this  was  some  inches 
under  the  pick,  and  he  had  to  work  the  blade  back- 
ward arid  forward  to  release  the  point. 

Denis  could  hardly  breathe. 

It  must  be  a  nugget — it  must — it  must — and  if 
a  nugget  then  the  largest  found  on  Ballarat  for  a 
twelvemonth. 

It  might  even  rival  the  two  giant  nuggets,  worth 
thousands  apiece,  got  from  Canadian  Gully  at  the 
beginning  of  the  previous  year;  the  nuggets  of 
which  Doherty  had  spoken  after  the  wreck ;  the 
nuggets  which  first  inflamed  them  both ! 

With  fingers  and  knife  he  scraped  down  to  it, 
then  felt  it  with  his  fingers,  then  scraped  it  with  his 
knife";  and  the  point  of  the  knife,  held  close  to  the 
candle,  showed  a  filament  of  virgin  gold  upon  the 
steel. 

Denis  closed  his  eyes  and  breathed  thanksgiving ; 
then  to  the  handle  of  the  pick  once  more,  to  prize 
the  great  mass  loose  in  its  gravelly  bed.  A  shower 
from  the  roof  at  once  deterred  him.  There  was  no 
guessing  the  size  of  a  nugget  like  this.  Its  incon- 
tinent removal  might  cause  such  a  subsidence  as 
to  bury  him  alive  in  the  moment  of  his  triumph  ; 
cautious  even  then,  Denis  blew  out  the  light,  screwed 


246  DENIS    DENT 

himself  round  on  his  own  acrobatic  principle,  and 
began  a  trip  to  the  top  for  props. 

What  time  was  it?  Had  Doherty  returned? 
Could  he  trust  Jewson  to  raise  him  in  the 
bucket.  He  was  looking  pathetically  far  ahead ; 
but  there  was  the  mouth  of  the  drive  glimmer- 
ing within  a  few  feet  of  him,  and  as  yet  Denis 
had  not  noticed  any  novelty  in  the  intervening 
ground. 

Now  he  noticed  it;  there  was  a  lump  of  some- 
thing, and  the  lump  was  moving.  Then  it  lay  still, 
but  strangely  extended.  And  two  glittering  little 
eyes  were  gazing  into  his  at  not  more  than  eighteen 
inches'  range. 

Denis  knew  them  on  the  instant  for  the  eyes  of 
an  enormous  snake.  The  tapering  tail  ran  back 
into  the  light  at  the  tunnel's  mouth,  as  a  river  reap- 
pears beyond  its  woods ;  it  was  beautifully  marked 
to  its  gracefully  writhing  tip;  its  glossy  scales, 
where  the  daylight  caught  them,  were  as  a  suit  of 
silver  mail.  All  this  Denis  noted  without  taking 
his  eyes  from  the  small  malignant  pair  in  the  zone 
of  darkness  between  him  and  the  light.  And  he 
thought  of  everything ;  that  he  was  stripped  to  the 
waist,  and  utterly  unarmed ;  that  he  had  left  his 
very  knife  behind  him,  and  why  he  had  taken  it 
out,  and  what  else  he  was  leaving  for  men  to  find 
beyond  his  body.  What  a  death  to  die  !  What  an 
inglorious  end !  Its  bitter  and  gratuitous  irony 
was  a  redeeming  point  rather  than  an  aggravation 


DEATH'S   DOOR  247 

to  a  mind  already  distorted  by  such  a  strain  in  such 
an  hour. 

His  eyes  still  gazing  into  the  eyes  of  death, 
he  thought  of  the  two  pioneer  prospectors  of 
California  who  wandered  finding  nothing  until  one 
died  by  the  way ;  the  other  had  just  strength  to  dig 
his  grave ;  and  in  so  doing  his  pick  stuck  into  such 
a  nugget  as  Denis  himself  had  found,  only  to  lose 
it  with  his  life.  He  was  not  a  very  egotistical  man. 
Yet  it  was  a  certain  satisfaction  to  him  to  feel  that 
he  would  pass  into  history  with  the  other  poor  devil 
who  changed  places  with  the  other  nugget. 

Whether  minutes  or  only  moments  flew  in  such 
thoughts,  Denis  never  knew;  but  at  last  the  other 
eyes  rose  suddenly,  as  the  serpent  arched  its  neck 
to  spring.  Instinctively  Denis  followed  suit,  was 
felled  to  his  face  by  the  roof  of  the  tunnel,  and  lay 
stunned  as  mercifully  as  beast  for  slaughter. 

Much  more  mercifully ;  for  the  snake  recoiled,  first 
in  fright,  finally  in  disgust.  The  snake  must  kill  its 
own.  Denis  owed  his  respite  to  that  law  of  reptile 
nature  ;  he  seemed  dead  enough  already. 

But  he  was  sufficiently  alive  long  before  he 
dared  betray  sign  of  life.  Luckily  he  remembered 
everything  in  a  flash ;  and  so  lay  waiting  for  the 
last.  One  thing  seemed  certain :  he  had  not  been 
bitten  yet.  There  was  no  sense  of  pain  or  swelling ; 
no  heavy  coil  oppressed  his  flesh ;  no  jets  of  baleful 
breath  played  upon  his  skin ;  and  in  his  near 
neighbourhood  nothing  stirred.  But  far  away  he 


248  DENIS    DENT 

fancied  he  could  hear  the  slightest  of  sibilant 
sounds,  and  by  degrees  he  opened  his  eyes.  In  his 
position  he  could  not  see  many  inches  in  front  of 
him,  but  they  were  inches  of  bare  ground.  He 
raised  his  head  imperceptibly :  the  snake  was 
circling  round  the  patch  of  daylight  at  the  bottom 
of  the  shaft,  gliding  half  its  length  up  its  slippery 
sides,  darting  its  forked  tongue  out  and  in,  and 
slowly  moving  its  head  as  if  seeking  for  some 
hole. 

Denis  considered  without  moving  a  muscle.  If 
he  were  armed  he  would  creep  on  his  belly  like  the 
snake  itself  and  trust  to  his  dexterity  to  strike  the 
first  blow.  But  he  was  not  armed.  He  had  no 
weapon  of  any  sort ;  the  one  good  weapon  in  the 
drive  was  fast  in  the  nugget — ah !  The  nugget ! 
He  had  forgotten  it ;  the  remembrance  was  like  a 
glass  of  spirit.  There  behind  him,  within  reach 
almost  of  his  feet,  was  the  only  weapon  worth 
thinking  about — worth  an  effort — worth  a  risk. 

Very  slowly,  very  laboriously,  he  crawled  back- 
ward until  his  foot  did  touch  the  wooden  haft  of 
the  driving-pick.  The  snake  was  still  circling  at 
the  bottom  of  the  shaft.  Turning  suddenly,  seizing 
the  haft  with  one  hand,  and  the  unburied  end  of 
the  pick  with  the  other,  Denis  twisted  it  as  a 
gimlet,  and  had  it  out  at  one  wrench.  Simple 
though  the  expedient,  it  had  only  occurred  to  him 
as  he  crawled  backward  for  his  life. 

Now  he  was  crawling  forward  again,  feeling  his 


DEATH'S   DOOR  249 

way  with  the  pick,  his  open  knife  between  his  teeth ; 
and  he  crawled  with  less  caution,  savouring  the 
fight.  The  pick  rang  against  a  stone.  The  snake 
was  aroused.  Its  body  writhed  in  angry  knots  and 
circles,  still  in  the  square  of  daylight,  but  now  with 
tongue  darting  and  eyes  piercing  into  the  mouth  of 
the  tunnel  at  each  contortion.  Denis  felt  its  body 
was  about  to  follow,  made  the  rush  himself  on 
hands  and  knees,  frightened  the  enemy  by  so  doing, 
and  next  instant  had  its  neck  nailed  to  the  ground 
at  one  lucky  blow  ;  but  as  he  scrambled  out  its  folds 
flew  round  his  leg,  crushing  it  horribly  and 
irresistibly  drawing  it  towards  its  head.  The  blood 
ran  down  Denis's  chin  as  he  plucked  the  open 
knife  from  his  teeth.  Then  the  strong  blade  sawed 
through  the  slimy  body  a  foot  below  the  head. 
But  for  long  the  headless  coils  wrung  the  slayer's 
leg,  while  the  forked  tongue  played  in  and  out  of 
the  bleeding  remnant  on  the  ground. 

At  last  he  leaned  lame  but  unencumbered 
against  the  side  of  the  shaft.  The  sun  was  in  the 
zenith ;  it  lit  the  slabs  on  two  sides  half-way  down. 
Denis  knew  the  sunlight  was  there,  though  he 
could  not  lift  his  head  to  look  on  it  again.  He  was 
sick,  dizzy,  and  in  pain ;  with  more  space  or  a  less 
loathsome  litter  he  would  have  stretched  himself 
out  where  he  was.  As  it  was  he  hugged  the  slabs 
in  a  standing  swoon  until  a  voice  came  down  to 
him  from  the  mouth  of  the  shaft. 

"  Mister !     Mister  !     Dent !     Denis  ! " 


250  DENIS    DENT 

He  reeled  and  raised  a  ghastly  face. 

"  What 's  the  matter  down  there  ?  " 

"  Nothing  ;  only  I  was  nearly  killed  by  a  snake." 

"  A  snake  !  " 

"  A  carpet  snake ;  but  I  killed  it,  thank  God." 

"  A  carpet  snake  !  " 

"  Nearly  eight  feet  long." 

"  Why,  there 's  one  up  here  about  the  same  size, 
must  be  its  mate.  That  one  must  have  fallen 
down.  I  've  killed  this  one  !  " 

But  the  raised  voice  quavered ;  the  lad  was 
whimpering,  shivering  against  the  sky.  Denis  be- 
came himself. 

"  Let  down  the  bucket,  Jimmy." 

"  Oh  !  Oh  !  I  have  n't  got  the  strength  to  draw 
you  up,  I  know  !  " 

"  What 's  happened — what  else  ?  " 

"  It 's  Jewson,"  the  boy's  voice  came  blubbering 
down. 

"  What 's  happened  to  him  ?  " 

"  The  other  snake  was  round  him — and  he  does  n't 
move ! " 


CHAPTER  XXV 
BEAT  OF  DRUM 

THE  imbroglio  with  Russia  had  at  this  time 
scarcely  earned  the  name  of  war.  Half- 
hearted hostilities  there  had  been  for 
months ;  but  a  halting  diplomacy  had  not  altogether 
abandoned  its  ineffectual  functions,  and  even  at  the 
latter  end  of  April  a  hope  was  breathed  from  the 
highest  quarter  that  peace  might  still  be  restored 
between  the  contending  countries.  Little  as  yet 
was  heard  of  the  Crimea,  much  less  of  its  invasion 
by  the  allies.  But  the  Brigade  of  Guards  was  ac- 
tually on  its  way  from  Malta  to  Scutari. 

The  uncertainty  in  the  official  mind  was  exempli- 
fied in  the  case  of  Captain  Devenish,  who,  though 
unfeignedly  eager  to  join  his  fortunate  battalion  on 
the  Bosphorus,  was  provisionally  attached  to  one  of 
those  remaining  at  Wellington  Barracks.  It  is  true 
that  he  was  ordered  to  hold  himself  in  readiness  to 
embark  at  the  shortest  possible  notice ;  but  in  the 
constant  society  of  disgusted  officers,  who  consoled 
themselves  with  the  conviction  that  there  would  be 
no  serious  fighting  after  all,  Ralph  soon  absorbed 
their  views,  and  began  to  look  upon  himself  as  a 
permanent  ornament  to  the  streets  of  London  and 


252  DENIS    DENT 

the  lanes  of  Hertfordshire.  It  was  only  in  Hert- 
fordshire itself  that  he  affected  a  different  feeling, 
openly  congratulating  himself  each  week  on  his  ar- 
rival, and  seldom  departing  without  some  half-hope- 
ful and  half-heartbroken  hint  that  it  was  very  likely 
for  the  last  time. 

Not  a  week,  in  the  beginning,  without  one  of 
these  visits ;  but  erelong,  scarcely  a  day.  The  ex- 
travagant fellow  would  arrive  in  hansoms  at  all 
hours,  and  go  rattling  back  to  barracks  through  the 
silent  country  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  Often  he 
would  stay ;  his  room  was  always  ready  for  him ; 
but  his  goings  and  his  comings  were  alike  erratic, 
and  that  was  part  of  their  charm.  In  the  very  be- 
ginning he  was  never  without  some  offering  for 
Nan.  She  soon  put  a  stop  to  that.  The  bustle  and 
clatter  and  high  spirits  which  he  still  brought  with 
him,  these  were  enough  for  the  girl,  who  little 
dreamed  of  what  nervous  tension  they  were  the  out- 
ward and  reactionary  sign.  Yet  such  was  the  ex- 
planation of  the  boisterous  animation  which  so  im- 
proved Devenish  in  her  eyes,  and  it  dated  from  the 
time  when  his  visits  became  more  frequent  and  ir- 
regular. 

One  lovely  morning  in  early  May,  after  a  whole 
long  Sunday  spent  with  Nan,  the  visitor  had  been 
first  abroad  before  breakfast,  and  by  merest  chance 
had  met  the  postman  at  the  gate.  Without  an  evil 
thought,  Ralph  had  taken  the  letters  from  him,  only 
to  behold  one  from  Denis  to  Nan  on  top  of  the  pile. 


BEAT   OF   DRUM  253 

He  stood  where  he  was  until  the  postman's  steps 
rang  away  into  silence  along  the  hard  highway. 
It  was  Denis's  writing,  without  a  doubt :  the  super- 
scription on  the  fraudulent  parcel  was  written  indel- 
ibly in  Ralph's  brain  ;  this  letter  was  directed  in  the 
same  hand ;  it  bore  the  new  Ballarat  postmark ;  and 
until  the  sight  of  it  Ralph  had  almost  forgotten  there 
was  such  a  place,  or  such  a  person  as  Denis  Dent. 
He  had  been  equally  absorbed  in  town  and  in  the 
country.  The  cloud  of  war  had  obscured  the  past ; 
the  sun  of  love  had  blinded  him  to  its  consequences. 
Even  the  soul-destroying  thought  of  the  packet  he 
had  posted — the  packet  with  which  Jewson  had  ob- 
viously tampered — the  packet  on  whose  changed 
contents  he  himself  was  trading  every  day — even 
the  thought  of  that  had  quite  ceased  to  bother 
Ralph.  He  was  not  a  man  of  much  imagination. 
Dent  and  Jewson  were  at  the  opposite  end  of  the 
world,  a  hundred  days'  sail  at  a  flattering  average ; 
what  was  the  use  of  bothering  about  Jewson  or 
Dent  ?  Yet  on  Jewson  he  had  been  relying  more 
than  he  knew  until  this  moment.  The  dirty  work 
had  been  left  in  Jewson's  hands ;  but  until  now, 
when  he  saw  an  important  branch  of  it  neglected, 
Devenish  had  not  chosen  to  realize  what  the  dirty 
work  would  be.  Here  was  a  letter  from  Denis  to 
Nan.  It  should  never  have  been  allowed  to  reach 
the  post.  Jewson  was  not  to  be  trusted  after  all. 

Standing  there  in  the  fresh   May  sunshine,  his 
ears  filled  with  the  morning  song  of  birds,  his  nos- 


254  DENIS    DENT 

trils  with  the  thousand  scents  of  the  countryside, 
Ralph  Devenish,  annoyed  and  nonplused  as  he  well 
might  be,  was  still  a  comparatively  honest  man.  A 
certain  element  of  self-deception  lingered  in  his  dis- 
honour. At  the  worst  he  had  been  a  passive  traitor 
to  this  point:  nor  was  the  next  step  downward 
taken  in  cold  blood.  A  window  opened  behind  his 
back,  and  Nan's  voice  hailed  him  from  her  room. 

"  Anything  for  me,  Ralph?" 

He  wheeled  about,  but  approached  the  house 
slowly,  shuffling  the  pack  on  his  way. 

"  I  'm  afraid  not ;  but  there 's  one  for  me." 

And  he  pocketed  her  letter  under  her  eyes. 

"A  bothersome  one?"  she  asked,  looking  down 
from  her  window  upon  his  bent  head  and  rounded 
shoulders. 

"  I  'm  afraid  so,  Nan." 

He  had  not  looked  up. 

"  But  you  did  n't  open  it,  did  you  ?  " 

«  No — that 's  why ! "  he  cried  grimly ;  and  pleased 
with  his  own  readiness  he  could  look  up  now  and 
meet  her  eyes.  "  They  sha'  n't  badger  me  down 
here,"  said  Ralph.  "  It  can  keep  until  I  get  back 
to  town." 

But  it  kept  as  insecurely  as  skeleton  in  open 
cupboard  ;  not  a  moment  was  the  letter  off  his 
mind.  He  lodged  it  in  his  innermost  pocket,  yet 
could  not  restrain  his  fingers  from  feeling  if  it  were 
there;  he  buttoned  up  his  coat,  only  to  feel  out- 
side. A  bank-note  for  a  thousand  pounds  would 


BEAT   OF   DRUM  255 

have  burdened  him  less ;  for  his  embarrassment  went 
beyond  the  moment ;  the  worst  part  of  it  was  undoubt- 
edly to  come.  But  he  must  know  the  worst,  and  to 
get  at  it  he  must  glance  at  the  letter  first  or  last. 
That  was  an  absolute  necessity  of  the  situation,  and 
the  exigency  itself  was  to  Ralph  Devenish  the  worst 
of  all.  Was  it  not  written  that  his  honour  was 
dying  hard  ?  It  was  not  quite  dead  yet. 

He  must  get  back  to  town  first  thing,  so  he  told 
them  at  the  breakfast-table;  but  Nan,  seeing  his 
trouble,  inveigled  him  into  the  garden  for  a  last 
turn  (it  might  always  be  the  last  indeed),  and  in 
the  narrow  avenue,  now  nearly  covered  in  for  the 
summer,  abruptly  asked  him  if  he  had  opened  his 
letter. 

"  Not  yet,"  he  answered  hoarsely.  "  It  can  keep 
till  I  get  back." 

"  But  it  is  bothering  you." 

"  I  know." 

"  It  may  not  prove  as  unpleasant  as  you  imagine." 

"  That  is  unlikely." 

"  If  I  were  you  I  should  prefer  to  know  the 
worst ;  and  if  I  trusted  any  one  as  you  say  you  trust 
me " 

"  Trust  you !     Nan,  I " 

He  had  halted  abruptly;  but  it  was  her  face 
that  stopped  his  tongue. 

"  Hush  !  "  she  commanded.  "  I  have  heard 
enough  of  all  that,  enough  to  last  me  all  my  life ; 
but  if  you  trust  me  as  a  friend,  as  you  've  said  you  do 


256  DENIS    DENT 

and  promised  you  will,  you  might  take  me  into  your 
trouble,  open  your  letter,  and  let  us  face  whatever 
it  contains  together." 

His  tongue  clove  in  his  head;  with  a  ghastly 
laugh  he  managed  to  refuse  at  last.  Her  curiosity 
was  now  on  fire.  And  to  gratify  the  sudden  pas- 
sion she  stooped  to  a  level  of  which  she  was  very 
soon  and  very  bitterly  ashamed. 

"  If  you  ever  want  me  to  feel  differently  toward 
you — ever,  ever,  when  we  are  both  middle-aged 
people — you  must  begin  by  trusting  me  now ! " 

So  spoke  Nan,  as  unworthily  as  she  was  prompted, 
on  the  spur  of  a  moment  which  marked  an  epoch 
in  her  life ;  but  even  the  immediate  effect  was  suf- 
ficiently sensational ;  for  with  a  cry  that  was  almost 
a  sob,  the  conscience-stricken  wretch  broke  away 
from  her,  and  fled  through  the  checkered  sunlight 
of  the  narrow  avenue,  like  the  madman  her  words 
had  made  him. 

Nan  was  puzzled  and  displeased,  first  with  him, 
afterward  and  more  seriously  with  herself.  She  re- 
membered and  deplored  what  she  had  said.  If  she 
had  given  him  ground  for  hope  !  That  would  be 
terrible — unpardonable — an  offense  against  God  and 
man.  And  yet  the  evidence  of  his  passion  dis- 
pleased her  least ;  and  least  of  all  the  indirect  evi- 
dence contained  in  a  few  lines  of  explanation  which 
a  private  messenger  brought  her  during  the  day ; 
for  while  they  accounted  for  his  conduct  of  the 
morning,  they  displayed  an  intention  so  in  accord- 


BEAT   OF   DRUM  257 

ance  with  her  wishes  as  to  relieve  her  mind  of  many 
misgivings. 

"  I  made  sure  it  was  my  orders  to  sail,"  wrote 
Ralph,  with  a  wise  brevity.  "  I  was  wrong,  but  I 
made  sure  I  was  right,  and  yet  I  could  not  trust 
myself  to  know  it  for  certain  without  telling  you,  or 
to  tell  you  and  then  say  good-bye  as  you  would 
have  me  say  it !  Forgive  me  if  you  can.  It  was  a 
sudden  madness,  and  as  it  turns  out  there  was  little 
or  no  justification  for  it.  Still,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
they  do  talk  of  sending  me  out  with  a  draft  next 
month.  That  will  be  soon  enough.  Yet  in  one 
way  you  know  it  could  not  come  too  soon  for  me. 
Oh,  Nan,  I  am  torn  two  ways !  " 

And  yet  this  glib  liar  had  not  then  summoned  up 
the  moral  or  immoral  courage  to  open  her  letter ; 
part  of  the  glibness  sprang  from  that  last  grain  of 
virtue.  He  might  not  open  it  after  all,  could  not 
all  that  day,  with  officers  and  gentlemen  jostling 
him  at  every  turn.  It  was  only  late  at  night,  in  the 
privacy  of  his  own  quarters,  that  the  absolute 
necessity  presented  itself  with  fresh  force,  and 
with  a  sudden  oath  the  envelope  was  ripped  open ; 
but  even  then  the  letter  itself  was  glanced  at  rather 
than  read. 

Endearment  and  protestation  this  reader  could 
indeed  afford  to  skip ;  but  what  he  could  not  help 
seeing  in  this  kind  at  once  hardened  and  inflamed 
his  heart.  He  called  her  his.  His,  forsooth,  his  ! 
Ralph  ran  a  blazing  eye  over  all  that,  tried  another 


258  DENIS    DENT 

page,  read  a  little,  caught  his  breath,  read  back- 
ward and  then  forward  in  a  skin  of  ice.  Jewson 
was  dead,  killed  by  a  snake  !  That  was  bad  enough, 
but  it  was  a  trifle  to  what  followed ;  for  much  had 
since  come  out,  and  more  was  suspected  of  the  dead 
man.  He  had  drugged  some  beer  and  stolen  a 
nugget  which  Nan  should  have  received  a  month 
ago.  That  much  was  proved.  The  nugget  had 
been  found ;  there  could  be  little  doubt  that  he  had 
stolen  the  letter  which  was  to  have  accompanied  it. 
And  here  Denis  reproached  himself  with  having 
written  so  seldom,  not  once  a  month  as  yet ;  but  in 
the  first  few  weeks  of  abject  failure  he  had  never 
had  the  heart  to  write,  but  once,  and  for  reasons 
given  he  could  not  be  sure  that  even  that  letter  had 
not  fallen  into  the  same  dead  hands. 

Devenish  held  his  breath.  Was  he  suspected 
also  ?  Yes,  he  could  see  that  he  was ;  he  could 
read  it  between  the  lines;  and  his  heart  reviled 
the  writer  for  suppressing  his  suspicions.  There 
was  no  generosity  in  Ralph,  and  he  wanted  none 
from  Denis. 

"  You  will  be  seeing  something  of  Ralph  Dev- 
enish," the  innocent  could  write.  "  You  might  ask 
him  whether  Jewson,  to  Ralph's  knowledge,  ever 
called  at  our  first  camp.  He  never  did  when  I  was 
there,  but  I  remember  thinking  of  him  when 
Moseley  told  me  a  strange  digger  had  offered  to 
take  our  letters.  He  bore  me  a  grudge  as  you  know. 
But  I  can  still  hardly  think  he  bore  me  such  a  grudge 


BEAT   OF   DRUM  259 

as  that,  or  you  any  grudge  at  all.  I  should  be  glad 
if  you  had  an  opportunity  of  speaking  to  Ralph 
Devenish  on  the  subject.  The  wretched  man  was 
his  servant  at  the  time,  so  perhaps  he  could  en- 
lighten us  a  little.  If  he  can  I  am  sure  he  will." 

Sure,  was  he  ?  Sure  of  Ralph  ?  What  was  the 
use  of  such  transparent  lies  ?  Ralph  himself  was 
only  enraged  by  them ;  they  accentuated  his  mean- 
ness and  the  other's  magnanimity.  He  forgot 
that  they  could  not  have  borne  such  significance  to 
Nan,  that  she  would  have  suspected  nothing,  and 
that  the  letter  after  all  was  written  to  her.  He  read 
on  as  though  it  had  been  written  to  himself;  and 
the  end  left  him  icy  sick.  Not  because  Denis  had 
already  made  several  thousands  out  of  his  fabulous 
claim,  and  upward  of  ,£2,500  by  a  single  nugget 
found  in  the  hour  that  was  so  nearly  his  last.  He 
was  welcome  to  his  filthy  gold.  It  was  neither  rec- 
ord nor  assurance  of  monetary  success  that  froze 
Ralph's  blood;  it  was  Denis's  promise  to  make 
amends  in  the  matter  of  correspondence,  to  write 
in  future  by  every  possible  ship,  and  to  post  his  let- 
ters with  his  own  hand. 

Ralph  felt  easier  when  he  had  destroyed  this  one ; 
he  was  only  thankful  he  had  read  it  now ;  to  have 
destroyed  it  unread  would  have  been  his  ruin.  But 
it  was  only  the  first.  What  of  all  the  rest  ?  Could 
he  hope  to  intercept  a  series  ?  Was  there  no  post- 
man or  postmaster  whom  he  could  suborn  to  inter- 
cept them  for  him  ? 


260  DENIS    DENT 

No — that  was  far  too  dangerous.  No  more  as- 
sistant rascals  for  Ralph  !  Henceforward  he  would 
do  his  own  dirty  work ;  he  approached  it  forthwith 
without  a  qualm,  but,  on  the  contrary,  with  the  spir- 
ited intelligence  of  a  bold  nature  and  an  educated 
brain. 

His  first  care  was  to  arrange  with  Lloyd's  for  im- 
mediate advice  upon  the  signaling  of  any  home- 
ward-bound Australian  packet  at  the  Lizard  or 
other  Channel  station ;  in  each  case,  separate  post- 
office  inquiries  were  the  next  step ;  and  it  was  from 
this  point  that  Ralph's  appearances  in  Hertfordshire 
became  as  delightfully  erratic  as  the  Merridews 
found  them.  So  far  everything  was  plain  sailing. 
It  was  the  actual  interception  of  the  letters  which 
was  fraught  with  inconceivable  difficulty  and  inces- 
sant danger. 

Its  unforeseen  variety  was  its  greatest  curse.  If 
the  letter  came  in  the  morning,  well  and  good ;  but 
once  it  was  only  due  by  the  evening  delivery,  and 
then  Devenish  fetched  all  the  letters  from  the  vil- 
lage post-office  on  some  impudent  pretext.  He  al- 
ways met  the  early  postman  at  the  gate. 

"  You  see  they  know  where  to  put  their  finger  on 
me  now,"  he  said  to  Nan,  in  presumed  reference  to 
the  War  Office.  "  Since  that  one  fright  I  got  down 
here  I  want  to  know  the  worst  at  the  earliest  possi- 
ble moment.  Yet  but  for  you  it  would  be  the  best, 
and  even  in  spite  of  you  I  can't  tell  you  how  I  burn 
to  go.  If  only  you  would  let  me  leave  you  on  the 


BEAT   OF   DRUM  261 

one    footing    which    would    make    me    a   happy 


man 


For  it  had  come  to  this :  he  had  proposed  re- 
peatedly and  gained  the  stage  of  receiving  a  fair 
hearing  and  some  faint  encouragement.  "  Some 
day — perhaps  !  "  she  said,  with  a  stress  which  indi- 
cated a  very  distant  day  indeed ;  and  that,  of  course, 
was  no  promise ;  nor  was  the  pale  prospect  accom- 
panied by  any  hope  on  Nan's  part  that  she  could 
ever  love  him  as  she  should.  Her  heart  was  dead 
or  numb ;  he  heard  it  again  and  again,  without  loss 
of  confidence  in  his  power  to  quicken  it  in  the  end. 
And  this  self-confidence  stood  Ralph  in  equal  stead 
with  Nan  and  with  his  own  soul :  not  from  the  first, 
yet  in  a  very  few  weeks,  he  was  playing  a  winning 
if  a  waiting  game.  He  learned  from  her  lips  how 
he  had  improved  in  her  sight ;  and  though  unable 
to  believe  there  had  been  so  much  room  for  improve- 
ment, he  was  careful  to  keep  the  ground  thus  won 
in  her  regard.  It  was  so  at  every  point  of  his  ad- 
vance. Here  and  there  the  gain  was  trifling,  but  he 
never  lost  an  inch. 

Ralph  had  an  open  and  yet  silent  ally  in  Mr. 
Merridew ;  of  old  he  had  always  wanted  this  mar- 
riage, and  now  he  wanted  it  more  than  ever.  Nan 
was  not  happy ;  it  was  the  one  thing  to  make  her 
happy.  He  would  have  told  her  so  every  day  but 
for  a  plain  word  in  the  beginning  from  Ralph  him- 
self. "  Din  me  in  her  ears,"  said  he,  "  and  I  am 
done ;  leave  it  to  her,  and  there  is  a  chance  for  me. 


262  DENIS    DENT 

But  never  another  word  against  Denis  Dent ;  if  his 
name  comes  up,  make  excuses  for  him.  You  do  n't 
know  women  as  I  know  them,  sir,  or  I  would  n't 
presume  to  offer  you  such  advice." 

It  was  followed,  however,  with  all  loyalty  and  de- 
votion to  their  common  cause.  Not  for  weeks  did 
the  father  venture  to  express  any  further  opinion  in 
the  matter ;  and  when  he  did  break  silence  the  oc- 
casion justified  him.  Captain  Devenish  was  ordered 
out  at  last.  Typhus,  dysentery  and  ague  had  de- 
scended upon  the  Guards'  camp  at  Aladyn  close  to 
Varna ;  thither  Devenish  was  to  sail  before  the  end 
of  June,  in  charge  of  a  draft  to  replace  those  fallen 
in  this  unfair  fight. 

It  was  Mr.  Merridew  who  brought  the  news  home 
from  the  City,  and  capped  it  with  the  conviction, 
now  indeed  general,  that  there  would  be  hard  fight- 
ing somewhere  before  the  end.  The  resolution  to 
attack  Sebastopol  was  not  yet  taken,  but  the  proba- 
bility had  long  been  in  the  air,  and  Mr.  Merridew 
spoke  of  it  as  an  absolute  certainty.  It  might  be  a 
short  campaign ;  but  from  the  character  of  a  map 
which  he  spread  out  Mr.  Merridew  was  not  of  that 
opinion.  Nan  took  but  a  perfunctory  interest  in 
the  map ;  she  knew  very  well  what  had  been  in  her 
father's  mind  for  weeks,  and  she  was  entirely  pre- 
pared for  what  was  coming  now. 

"  Whatever  may  be  before  them,  you  may  depend 
the  Guards  will  be  in  the  van,"  said  Mr.  Merridew, 
grandly.  "  The  chances  are  that  many  of  them 


BEAT   OF   DRUM  263 

will  never  come  back  ;  but  we  won't  think  of  that. 
Suppose  they  are  away  a  year.  Think  of  Ralph 
and  of  yourself.  Imagine  his  torments  all  that 
time,  fighting  for  his  country,  and  yet  uncertain  of 
you !  How  can  you  expect  him — not  to  do  his 
duty,  for  that  we  know  he  will — but  to  be  as  ef- 
ficient as  a  soldier  with  a  single  and  a  settled 
mind  ?  " 

"  He  is  certain  enough,"  said  Nan,  sulking  sweetly, 
"  if  he  can  wait." 

"  But  nothing  is  so  uncertain  as  such  a  future  !  " 

"  Well,  I  can't  marry  him  before  he  goes,  can  I  ?  " 

It  was  said  flippantly,  yet  with  a  certain  feeling 
far  back  in  the  mind. 

"  I  do  n't  know  about  that.  Would  you  if  you 
could,  Nan  ?  " 

"  It  might  save  complications,  if  he  is  to  be 
away  a  year !  Suppose  some  one  else  were  to  come 
home  during  the  year,  you  know  !  "  added  Nan, 
with  undiminished  flippancy ;  yet  this  was  the 
thought  at  the  back  of  her  brain,  and  she  was  enter- 
taining it  in  bitter  earnest. 

"  Ah,  poor  Dent !  "  said  Merridew,  advisedly,  as 
he  grasped  her  meaning. 

"  You  need  n't  pity  him ;  he  will  come  back  rich, 
if  not  with  a  wife,"  said  the  girl  whom  Devenish 
knew  so  well. 

Mr.  Merridew  came  back  to  his  point,  after  a 
pause  intended  to  break  the  thread  of  painful  asso- 
ciation, as  it  did. 


264  DENIS    DENT 

"  But  would  you  marry  Ralph  if  there  was  time  ?  '' 

"  There  is  n't  time." 

"  I  do  n't  know.  I  wish  I  knew  the  date  he  sails. 
It  may  be  later  than  we  think." 

And  the  budding  strategist  dropped  the  subject 
with  a  tact  which  was  growing  on  him  with  the 
conduct  of  this  affair.  But  first  thing  next  morning 
Ralph  and  he  were  closeted  in  his  private  office. 

"  Splendid  !  splendid  !  "  cried  the  younger  man. 
"  Another  word  from  you  might  have  spoiled  every- 
thing. I  will  run  down  this  minute  and  say  the 
rest  for  myself." 

"  But  is  it  possible,  Ralph  ?  " 

"  With  a  special  license  it  would  be  possible  to- 
morrow." 

"  And  how  long  have  you  ?  " 

"  I  hope  a  month.  Time  enough  for  banns,  if 
you  like.  We  can  get  them  put  up  this  Sunday." 

John  Merridew  looked  at  the  young  man  sitting 
before  him,  his  dark  face  flushed,  his  dark  eyes 
sparkling — handsome,  eager,  and  exultant — without 
a  misgiving  or  a  qualm  for  mortal  eye  to  see. 

"  You  are  very  confident,  Ralph  !  " 

« I  am." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 
.     HOMEWARD  BOUND 

TH  AT  very  month  of  May  saw  Denis  deep 
in  an  orderly  determination  of  his  Austra- 
lian affairs.  These  were  in  a  state  scarcely 
credible,  but  for  the  fact  that  his  case  was  not 
unique.  Denis  was  not  the  only  lucky  digger  of 
his  day,  but  he  was  one  of  the  few  who  made  the 
most  of  their  good  fortune.  Half  the  blood  in  his 
veins  was  averse  from  squandering,  but  every  drop 
was  on  fire  for  his  reward.  Suffice  it  that  the  sweat 
rolled  off  him  until  he  had  his  ten  thousand  safe, 
and  enough  over  to  carry  him  home ;  there  fol- 
lowed civil  strife  between  the  two  distinct  natures 
whose  union  in  one  body  made  Denis  what  he 
was.  He  must  sail  by  the  first  ship.  He  must 
stay  to  set  his  house  in  order.  He  could  not  do 
both.  Yet  half  the  house  was  his,  however  come 
by,  and  it  went  against  his  Yorkshire  grain  to  give 
it  up  altogether.  The  claim  was  still  paying  hand- 
somely. A  second  tunnel  had  been  driven  north  ; 
and  it  was  to  be  a  longer  tunnel,  since  that  good 
neighbour  with  the  black  beard  had  pegged  out  on 
the  northern  boundary  of  the  claim,  to  obviate  a 
hostile  encroachment  back  and  front,  on  the  very 


266  DENIS    DENT 

natural  understanding  that  he  should  join  Doherty 
when  Dent  was  gone.  And  yet  Denis  was  loth 
to  go. 

It  was  not  for  the  financial  sacrifice,  though  he 
was  sufficiently  alive  to  that.  What  was  ten  thou- 
sand pounds  to  take  to  Nan  ?  It  seemed  almost 
criminal  to  go  to  her  with  so  little  when  in  a  few 
more  months  he  might  have  doubled  it.  Yet  there 
was  more  to  urge  on  the  other  side,  and  it  was  not 
the  gold  that  he  was  grieved  to  leave.  It  was  the 
work  of  his  hands.  The  claim  was  largely  that ; 
the  two  tunriels  were  that  and  nothing  else.  Much 
had  been  given  him,  but  it  had  been  given  into  the 
right  hands.  Denis  had  carried  on  an  excellent 
and  shrewd  bit  of  work  with  a  thoroughness  and 
an  intelligence  at  least  worthy  of  his  predecessor ; 
they  were  alike  in  this,  that  both  had  a  soul  aside 
from  the  mere  gold ;  and  Denis  took  as  much  pride 
in  every  inch  of  his  two  drives  as  the  sinker  had 
taken  in  every  slab  of  his  splendid  shaft. 

The  others  realized  how  much  was  due  to  the 
outgoing  partner,  and  it  was  they  who  first  begged 
him  to  retain  a  share.  At  first  he  refused.  "  Very 
well,  mister.  Then  I  come  with  you,"  said  Doh- 
erty ;  and  that  was  an  argument ;  for  Denis  did  not 
want  the  lad  in  England,  much  less  at  first,  strongly 
attached  as  they  had  become.  He  had  to  listen  after 
that,  and  at  last  consented  to  reap  a  small  profit  till 
the  year's  end,  "  in  case,"  he  said  to  Doherty's  new 
mate, "  things  are  not  as  I  expect  to  find  them  in 


HOMEWARD   BOUND      267 

the  old  country,  and  I  should  want  to  come  straight 
out  again.  Then  I  should  be  back  for  Christmas ; 
and  it  would  be  like  coming  home."  He  said  it 
with  a  smile,  yet  it  was  significant  that  he  did  not 
say  it  in  Doherty's  hearing ;  and  the  mere  possi- 
bility of  the  thing  he  voiced,  however  remote,  turned 
Denis  sick  at  heart  at  the  very  time  when  Ralph 
Devenish  was  most  confident  in  London. 

His  arrangements  were  concluded  with  some 
abruptness,  but  they  showed  a  sound  foresight  in 
every  detail.  He  had  a  draft  on  the  Rothschilds 
(from  the  Montefiore  then  in  Melbourne)  for  his 
entire  savings  of  nearly  eleven  thousand  pounds ; 
one  duplicate  he  took  with  him  in  the  ship,  another 
was  to  follow  in  the  next  vessel  carrying  mails. 
And  there  was  now  no  dearth  of  ships,  for  Melbourne 
in  these  seven  or  eight  months  had  evolved  from 
the  colossal  encampment  into  the  rudimentary 
city. 

Of  course  Doherty  came  down  to  see  him  off, 
which  he  did  with  the  liveliest  lamentations ;  but 
already  Denis  had  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  old  world, 
and  his  chief  trouble  was  the  time  that  it  must  take 
to  get  there. 

"  I  '11  follow  ye,  dear  old  mister  !  "  whimpered  the 
lad.  "  I  '11  be  after  you  before  the  year  's  out — un- 
less I  hear  as  you  're  on  your  own  way  back ! " 

He  stood  on  the  quay,  but  a  ragged  young  boor 
— unlettered  child  of  felons — unshriven  son  of  the 
soil — yet  worth  twice  his  weight  in  gold  in  all 


268  DENIS    DENT 

senses  of  the  homely  phrase.  And  the  troubled 
face,  with  the  tears  rolling  grotesquely  over  the 
tan,  was  the  last  that  Denis  looked  on  in  a  land 
as  rich  in  such  contrasts  as  in  the  precious  metal 
itself. 

The  voyage  took  a  hundred  and  thirty  days,  and 
was  the  longest  Denis  had  ever  made ;  but  it  must 
have  seemed  so  to  him  in  any  case,  for  the  gold- 
fever  had  passed  its  crisis,  and  now  there  were  more 
sailors  than  enough  to  man  the  many  ships,  so  that 
he  found  himself  a  passenger  perforce  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life.  And  after  a  fortnight  of 
heavenly  rest,  the  idleness  became  more  irksome  to 
his  temperament  every  day.  Instead  of  reveling  in 
the  luxury  of  seeing  others  staggering  in  dripping 
oilskins,  of  hearing  the  starboard  watch  piped  on 
deck,  and  of  turning  over  on  the  other  side,  Denis 
would  sooner  have  paid  the  second  officer  to 
change  places  with  him.  He  missed  the  crowded 
hours,  and  the  sense  of  responsibility  so  long  as- 
sociated with  the  sea ;  they  had  made  his  former 
ships  fly  their  latitudes  like  hurdles,  where  this  one 
crawled  and  climbed. 

The  voyage  was  quite  uneventful,  but  of  petty  in- 
cident there  was  the  usual  supply.  Denis  himself 
incurred  the  displeasure  of  the  captain  by  his  pro- 
fessional interest  in  every  move,  but  in  a  rough-and- 
tumble  round  the  Horn  he  made  certain  amends, 
and  won  further  favour  in  the  tropics.  There  they 
were  becalmed  three  weeks.  The  ship  was  full  of 


HOMEWARD   BOUND       269 

returning  diggers,  mostly  unsuccessful,  and  discon- 
tent in  the  steerage  was  fermented  by  the  harsh 
treatment  of  offenders  upon  whom  the  thwarted 
skipper  wreaked  insensate  vengeance  with  the  irons 
which  are  a  snare  to  so  many  of  his  kind.  It  was 
Denis  who  remonstrated  in  the  captain's  cabin  and 
reasoned  between  decks,  and  it  was  Denis  who 
forthwith  initiated  the  various  interests  which  re- 
deemed the  remainder  of  the  voyage.  Here,  how- 
ever, he  received  valuable  aid  from  a  hard-bitten 
old  sergeant  of  the  Black  Watch,  named  Thrush, 
who  had  thus  far  been  an  unpopular  advocate  of 
steerage  discipline.  From  organized  games  these 
two  worked  up  to  a  daily  drill,  owing  a  plausible 
existence  to  the  pirates  with  which  the  seas  were 
still  infested  in  those  days,  and  a  corporeal  to 
the  valuable  money-prizes  which  Denis  put  up. 
This  passed  a  lot  of  time.  The  captain  looked  on 
approvingly  from  the  poop.  Sergeant  Thrush 
bellowed  and  swore  in  his  old  element.  Denis 
drilled  humbly  with  the  rest.  In  the  channel  he 
was  thanked  by  the  captain  in  a  public  speech,  and 
so  cheered  by  every  throat  on  board  that  he  must 
have  stepped  ashore  in  a  glow,  even  with  no  Nan 
Merridew  in  the  world. 

As  it  was  he  was  naturally  anxious,  more  nervous 
than  he  could  have  believed,  yet  full  of  simple- 
hearted  faith  and  trust.  God  had  been  very  good 
to  him :  disloyal  and  impious  to  anticipate  aught 
but  goodness  at  His  hands.  And  yet — it  was  eleven 


270  DENIS    DENT 

long  months  and  more!  And  yet — not  a  letter 
from  his  love  in  all  that  time ! 

This,  however,  was  his  own  fault  rather  than  hers ; 
there  had  been  no  time  for  answers  to  the  few  let- 
ters he  was  justified  in  hoping  she  had  received. 
No  one  therefore  was  to  blame,  except  himself. 
But  yet  much,  only  too  much,  might  happen  in 
eleven  months. 

Denis  went  straight  to  Rothschilds'  (for  it  was  a 
Saturday  morning),  presented  his  draft,  and  was 
still  wise  enough  in  his  excitement  to  open  an  ac- 
count then  and  there.  Fifty  pounds  he  drew  in 
cash,  and  the  business  was  concluded  in  ten  min- 
utes. But  it  took  Denis  some  hours,  driving  about 
in  a  cab,  to  render  himself  temporarily  and  approx- 
imately as  presentable  as  he  burned  to  be ;  and  the 
afternoon  was  advancing  when  he  stopped  the  cab 
on  a  country  road,  to  jump  out  a  new  man,  whose 
beard  was  trimmed  beneath  his  changeless  tan,  but 
all  else  about  him  only  too  fresh  from  the  shop. 

In  his  heart  he  regretted  his  comfortable  rags,  his 
old  hat,  his  easy  boots,  even  his  flowing  beard ;  but 
he  felt  it  would  have  been  the  greater  affectation  to 
go  out  to  Hertfordshire  just  as  he  had  left  the  dig- 
gings ;  and  so  you  see  him  well  upon  the  road,  yet 
with  a  three-mile  tramp  still  before  him,  deliberately 
chosen  to  calm  his  soul. 

It  happened  to  be  the  last  day  of  September. 
The  countryside  lay  porous  but  peaceful  under  a 
delicate  film  of  mist  and  chastened  sunlight.  Trees 


HOMEWARD   BOUND       271 

showed  to  less  advantage  in  limp  leaves  of  a  lack- 
lustre shade  between  living  green  and  dying  glory ; 
but  to  Denis  the  hour  was  still  worthy  of  his  dreams ; 
it  was  for  him  to  prove  worthy  of  the  hour.  The 
rich  scent  of  decay  was  not  only  perfume  in  his 
nostrils ;  it  braced  the  brain  like  strong  salts ;  and 
the  sharp  touch  of  autumn  in  the  air  had  the  like 
effect  upon  his  blood.  He  strode  out  with  the  greater 
gusto  for  his  long  confinement  aboardship  ;  the  day 
could  not  well  have  been  more  restful,  more  reas- 
suring, more  inspiriting  withal. 

Presently  a  village — a  village  so  utterly  English 
in  its  great  length,  its  red  roofs,  and  the  signs  and 
archways  of  its  many  inns,  that  Denis  could  have 
tarried  there  merely  to  gloat  over  his  native  land. 
But  he  only  inquired  the  name  of  the  place,  and 
was  off  with  a  nod  on  hearing  it  was  Edgware.  It 
could  only  have  been  Edgware ;  he  knew  where  he 
was  to  a  mile  and  less,  though  he  had  never  before 
been  there  in  the  flesh.  The  spirit  had  atoned. 
Was  it  not  Nan  herself  who  had  taught  him  the 
road  she  knew  so  well  ?  Had  she  not  told  him  ex- 
actly how  to  come,  the  very  next  time  he  was  in 
docks  ?  Ah,  that  was  in  the  early  days,  in  tropic 
nights  on  the  North  Foreland,  yet  how  well  he  re- 
membered one  and  all !  How  he  could  seethe  fresh 
young  girl,  so  far  from  her  home,  but  so  full  of  it ! 
Not  Nan  to  him  then — only  Miss  Merridew !  It 
seemed  a  great  many  years  ago. 

But  she  had  told  him  how  to  know  the  house,  by 


272  DENIS    DENT 

its  plate-glass  porch  and  its  dear  red  bricks;  she 
had  prepared  him  for  the  first  sight  of  the  sacred 
spot,  the  line  of  trees  to  be  seen  against  the  sky  from 
a  certain  dip  and  sudden  bend  in  the  road.  Great 
heaven !  Could  those  be  they  ?  Denis  was  standing 
in  such  a  hollow  at  such  a  bend.  A  file  of  trees  ran 
into  the  sky  like  a  giant  hedge :  even  so  had  Nan 
described  the  first  prospect  of  that  narrow  avenue 
in  which  Denis  had  done  everything  but  walk. 

Somehow  his  legs  carried  him  up  the  last  hill,  and 
so  to  the  low  wall  which  made  no  pretense  of  shield- 
ing the  front  of  the  house  from  the  road.  Of 
course  it  was  the  house ;  the  old  red  brick  glowed 
as  softly  as  in  his  dreams ;  the  distinctive  porch  re- 
flected a  gentle  sunset  with  all  the  sharp  fidelity  of 
plate-glass.  Denis  was  glad  to  lean  on  the  low  wall, 
to  peer  through  the  shallow  shrubbery  on  its  inner 
side ;  he  felt  as  though  the  muscles  had  been  drawn 
out  of  him. 

But  as  he  leaned  the  reflected  sunset  was  momen- 
tarily disturbed,  and  the  next  moment  a  figure  stood 
in  the  doorway,  gazing  toward  the  west  itself.  It 
was  Nan.  The  sunset  lit  her  ringlets  to  warmest 
gold.  It  gave  her  some  colour,  too,  yet  still  her 
face  was  paler  than  of  old,  as  it  was  certainly  far 
thinner  and  older.  Its  appeal  to  Denis  was  all  the 
more  potent  and  instantaneous.  His  muscles  tight- 
ened almost  with  a  twang.  No  running  round  by 
the  gate  for  him !  He  vaulted  the  wall,  burst 
through  the  bushes,  stood  panting  at  her  feet. 


HOMEWARD   BOUND      273 

Nan's  hands  clutched  post  and  door ;  the  sun- 
light turned  ghastly  on  her  face;  but  she  could 
look  steadily  down  on  him  from  the  step,  she  was 
so  much  the  calmer  of  the  two. 

"  I  have  been  expecting  you  so  long ! "  she  could 
say  with  but  a  break  in  her  voice.  "  Oh,  Denis 
.  .  .  Denis!" 

And  her  right  hand  lay  cold  in  his. 

"  Come  in ! "  she  cried,  wrenching  it  from  his 
lips.  Something  rang  on  the  flags  of  the  porch 
as  she  pushed  him  before  her.  "  No,  no,  through 
into  the  garden,"  she  went  on.  "  It 's  stifling  in  the 
house." 

Yet  firelight  flickered  in  the  rooms  they  passed, 
and  it  was  really  chilly  on  the  lawn  where  Nan  had 
walked  with  Ralph,  also  toward  dusk,  at  the  break 
of  the  leaf  now  floating  back  to  earth. 

"  I  found  the  house  in  a  minute,"  he  went  on  as 
they  trod  the  soft  turf  together.  "  We  only  got 
ashore  this  morning,  and  I  drove  out  nearly  all  the 
way ;  but  I  felt  I  must  walk  the  part  I  seemed  to 
know  so  well.  This  time  yesterday  we  were  off 
the  Isle  of  Wight :  such  a  voyage,  a  hundred  and 
twenty-nine  days  from  pilot  to  pilot !  I  'd  have 
given  a  thousand  pounds  to  knock  off  the  twenty- 
nine  ! " 

That  was  his  only  allusion  to  his  success,  and  it 
was  unintentional.  She  was  sadly  embarrassed ;  he 
saw  it  with  some  pain,  but  supposed  it  natural  after 
so  long  a  separation.  After  all,  they  scarcely  knew 


274  DENIS    DENT 

each  other ;  they  only  loved ;  but  Denis  was  not 
going  to  force  the  love  upon  her  all  in  a  moment. 
His  instincts  did  not  fail  him  in  his  great  hour. 
Yet  the  hour  was  not  quite  as  he  had  foreseen  it. 
He  had  foreseen  two  extremes :  to  be  chatting 
in  this  fashion  and  ignoring  all  that  mattered  to 
him  in  life  struck  Denis  at  the  time  as  scarcely 
credible  in  himself.  Yet  he  kept  it  up  for  several 
minutes,  in  a  tone  light  beyond  his  nature,  with  a 
heart  cooling  into  solid  lead.  He  would  not  even 
ask  if  she  had  got  his  letters ;  it  was  not  for  him 
to  remind  her  of  anything  that  had  ever  been,  to 
take  the  continuance  of  anything  for  granted.  He 
might  have  to  begin  all  over  again.  That  was 
nothing.  In  less  than  a  minute  he  was  resigned  to 
that. 

"  And  I  seem  to  have  found  you  alone,"  he  re- 
marked at  last.  It  was  his  first  wistful  word. 

"  Papa  is  remaining  in  the  city,"  replied  the  girl. 
"  He  has  been  asked  to  the  Sheriffs'  Dinner  at  the 
London  Tavern.  So  I  suppose  I  am  alone." 

She  glanced  over  her  shoulder  at  the  firelit  win- 
dows overlooking  the  lawn. 

"  That  avenue ! "  exclaimed  Denis  standing  still. 
"  It  was  my  first  landmark,  as  you  said  it  would  be. 
You  might  let  me  see  it  before  it 's  dark !  " 

Nan  pointed  to  the  screen  of  trees  beyond  the 
kitchen-garden. 

"  There  it  is.     You  do  see  it." 

"  But  properly  !  " 


HOMEWARD  BOUND       275 

"  Very  well." 

She  led  the  way.  His  voice  had  trembled ;  a 
deep  compassion  softened  hers.  In  a  minute  they 
were  in  the  avenue.  It  was  narrower  even  than  he 
had  thought.  The  trees  in  their  autumn  tatters  still 
met  above  their  heads.  But  it  was  a  place  of  pre- 
mature twilight,  where  faces  were  already  hard  to 
see.  Figures  are  often  more  eloquent.  He  stood 
in  front  of  her  with  his  arms  unconsciously  flung 
wide,  and  she  stood  drooping  just  beyond  his  reach. 

"  Nan  ! " 

His  voice  choked  with  doubt  and  apprehension. 

"  Yes !  I  suppose  you  may  call  me  that,"  she 
said,  sadly. 

"  Call  you  that  ?  Call  you  Nan  ?  "  His  arm  flew 
round  her  at  last,  but  the  bright  bowed  head  for- 
bade a  kiss.  "  My  darling,  what  in  the  world  has 
happened  ?  " 

An  alien  voice  came  from  the  hidden  lips. 

"  I  am  not  your  darling,  Denis." 

"  No  ;  that  I  have  seen  ! "  he  cried  bitterly,  re- 
leasing her.  "  You  do  n't  love  me  any  more.  I 
saw  it  in  a  moment  ...  is  there  anybody 
else  ?  " 

No  answer. 

"  Are  you  engaged  to  some  one  else  ?  " 

«  No — no." 

"  I  must  have  the  truth." 

"  I  dare  not  tell  you  the  whole  truth." 

And  she  drooped  to  break  it  to  him. 


276  DENIS    DENT 

"  You  have  nothing  to  fear,  Nan." 
"  I  don't  know  how  to  tell  you.     . 
"  I  am  ready  for  the  worst." 
"  Then     .     .          I  am  married." 


CHAPTER  XXVII 
THE  GREAT  GULF 

THE  words  died  away  in  the  still  air.  They 
had  been  but  faintly  whispered,  and  now 
for  many  moments  there  was  no  sound  at 
all  in  the  quiet  shelter  of  the  trees.  Then  for  a  lit- 
tle the  absolute  silence  was  broken  by  short  and 
laboured  breathing  through  clenched  teeth  ;  then  it 
became  absolute  as  before.  Denis  was  mastering 
himself  as  best  he  might ;  his  whole  being  was  as  a 
knotted  muscle ;  but  by  degrees  that  also  relaxed, 
and  he  stood  once  more  like  a  thing  of  flesh  and 
blood,  only  swaying  a  little  on  his  feet.  But  Nan 
had  neither  stirred  nor  made  a  sound.  It  was  as 
though  her  dress  supported  her,  as  the  dresses  of 
those  days  almost  might,  yet  there  was  never  a 
rustle  from  its  silken  dome.  And  in  the  narrow 
avenue  it  was  almost  dark. 

"  Devenish,  of  course  ?  "  he  said  at  last,  but  so 
hoarsely  that  he  had  to  say  it  twice. 

It  was  worth  the  effort.  It  made  Nan  look  up  ; 
it  brought  her  back  to  life. 

"  Yes,"  she  whispered  in  simple  horror.  Yes — 
"  I  am  married  to  that  villain  !  " 

Their  eyes  met  through  the  dusk,  as  in  a  lane  of 
light.  His  face  reflected  the  unmixed  horror  so  re- 


278  DENIS    DENT 

markable  in  hers.  Yet  already  some  bell  was  ring- 
ing in  his  heart. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  I  loathe  him  !  " 

"  Yet  you  are  married  ?  " 

She  spread  out  her  hands  in  a  gesture  that  was 
no  answer  to  his  incredulity.  Quick  as  thought  he 
caught  her  left. 

"  Where 's  the  ring  ?  " 

"  Yours  is  quite  safe." 

"  But  the  wedding-ring — your  wedding-ring  ?  " 

"  I  took  it  off  the  moment  we  met.  It  dropped 
in  the  porch.  I  couldn't  let  you  find  out  that  way." 

Her  hand  also  dropped  out  of  his.  He  turned 
heavily  away  from  her.  It  was  as  though  for  a 
moment  he  had  cherished  some  mad  hope  ;  now  he 
stood  broken  and  aloof,  shaken  with  sobs  that  never 
reached  his  throat ;  oblivious  alike  to  the  rustle  of 
the  silk  dress  behind  him,  to  the  fluttering  feather- 
weight of  her  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  Oh,  Denis,  Denis,  if  I  could  die  ...  if  I 
could  die  !  It  is  worse  for  me.  You  are  not  married  ; 
you  are  not  tied  for  life.  But  I  deserve  it  all,  all, 
all.  .  .  .  There 's  no  excuse  for  me,  none.  Yet 
there  is  some  explanation — poor  enough,  God 
knows  !  Won't  you  listen  to  that  ?  Won't  you 
listen  to  me  at  all  ?  " 

He  turned  slowly  round,  and  looked  upon  Nan 
with  the  unseeing  fixity  of  the  blind.  "  Go  on,"  he 
said.  "  I  am  listening,  and  will  listen." 


THE    GREAT    GULF        279 

"  He  cheated  me  !  "  she  cried,  passionately.  "  He 
took  your  letters,  and  he  told  me  lies.  But  I  al- 
lowed myself  to  be  cheated,"  she  added,  miserably, 
"  and  I  believed  the  lies  ;  so  I  deserved  not  to  find 
him  out  till  it  was  too  late ;  and  I  deserve  this, 
Denis,  I  deserve  it  all.  If  only,  only  I  could  die  !  " 

He  soothed  her  as  best  he  could,  taking  her  hand 
in  one  of  his,  and  stroking  it  mechanically  with  the 
other.  The  action  might  have  reminded  them  of 
something  long  past ;  but  the  present  absorbed  both 
their  minds.  It  was  all  that  they  would  ever  have 
together.  It  was  their  life. 

"  Do  n't  tell  me  unless  it  helps  you,"  he  said, 
gently.  "  I  begin  to  understand.  And  it  was  my 
fault — mine — for  leaving  you  as  I  did." 

"  Your  fault !  Yet  if  you  had  written — if  you 
only  had  written ! "  she  cried,  loudly  exonerating 
him  in  one  breath,  softly  reproaching  in  the  next. 

"  I  know.  That  was  pride,"  he  said  bitterly. 
"  I  was  so  desperately  unsuccessful  up  to  Christmas  ! 
I  did  write  in  November,  but  I  was  always  afraid 
that  letter  never  went." 

"  I  never  got  it.  Not  a  word  of  any  sort,  dear," 
she  said,  simply,  "  did  I  have  from  you  till  nearly 
May.  And  then " 

"  And  then  ?  "  he  repeated  as  she  paused. 

"  Have  you  no  idea  what  I  am  going  to  tell  you  ?" 
she  asked,  a  new  twinge  in  her  tone.  She  could 
scarcely  have  explained  her  feeling,  but  the  least 
inkling  in  him  would  have  implied  some  slight  ex- 


28o  DENIS    DENT 

cuse  for  her,  would  in  any  case  have  helped  her  to 
confess  the  climax  of  her  late  credulity. 

"  None  whatever,"  said  Denis. 

"  Yet  it  was  your  writing.  I  can  show  it  you,  for 
I  have  it  still." 

"  What  writing  do  you  mean?  "  he  inquired,  quite 
in  the  dark. 

"  The  address  on  the  parcel." 

"  What  sort  of  parcel  ?  "  he  exclaimed,  as  the 
truth  flashed  across  him.  "  Quite  small  ?  Brown 
paper  ?  Quick  !  Quick  !  I  want  to  know  ! " 

"  Yes — yes — and  you  do  n't  know  what  was  in 
it!  Oh,  Denis!" 

"  I  know  what  should  have  been,"  he  said, 
grimly :  "  my  first  nugget — according  to  promise. 
But  it  was  stolen,  and  afterward  found." 

"  And  you  do  n't  know  what  was  put  in  instead  ? 
Did  you  lose  nothing  else  ?  " 

Denis  stood  stock-still  in  the  deepening  dusk. 
No,  he  had  never  thought  of  that;  even  now  his 
simplicity  could  not  credit  it  until  he  had  drawn 
every  detail  from  Nan's  lips.  The  ring  had 
possessed  intrinsic  value.  He  had  always  looked 
upon  that  as  an  ordinary  theft.  The  discovery  of 
the  stolen  nugget  on  Jewson's  body  had  puzzled 
him,  but  it  was  partially  accounted  for  by  another 
strange  fact  which  had  come  to  light  after  the  man's 
death,  namely,  that  the  nugget  had  been  purchased 
by  Jewson  in  the  first  instance,  elsewhere  on  the 
diggings,  and  deliberately  planted  at  the  bottom  of 


THE    GREAT    GULF        281 

the  shaft  where  Denis  found  it.  And  not  till  this 
moment,  months  afterward,  had  Denis  penetrated 
the  dead  man's  design. 

"  You  have  indeed  been  cheated,"  he  said, 
bitterly.  "  Yet  to  believe  me  capable  of  behaving 
like  that  without  a  word !  To  have  known  me  as 
little  as  all  that !  Why,  there  was  trickery  on  the 
face  of  it.  But  how  can  I  talk  ?  They  took  me 
in,  too — decent  people  do  n't  dream  of  such  vil- 
lainy— so  I  was  fair  game  at  one  end,  and  you  at 
the  other.  I  begin  to  see  the  whole  thing.  Do 
you  remember  when  we  said  good-bye  on  board 
your  ship  ?  " 

"  Do  I  remember  !  " 

"  It  was  then  you  gave  me  what  I  wore  night 
and  day  until  it  was  stolen  and  sent  back  to  you." 

"  Oh,  Denis  !  " 

"  And  it  was  then  you  made  me  promise  to  send 

it  back  to  you  if  ever Oh,  what  a  fool  I 

was!" 

"  It  was  my  doing — all.  You  did  n't  want  to 
promise ;  it  vexed  you  and  hurt  you,  and  it  was  all 
my  fault." 

"  But  I  promised,  and  I  was  overheard,  by  the 
villain  who  is  gone,"  said  Denis.  "  He  was  in  my 
cousin's  cabin  at  the  time,  for  I  distinctly  remember 
seeing  him  there  as  we  went  on  deck.  And  he  re- 
peated every  syllable  to  a  ten  times  greater  villain 
than  himself,  who  is  alive  to  answer  for  his  crime ! " 
and  he  ground  his  teeth,  little  dreaming  that  he  had 


282  DENIS    DENT 

done  the  living  criminal  a  double  injustice  in  one 
breath. 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  he  is  alive,"  faltered  Nan, 
above  her  breath,  but  that  was  all. 

"  You  are  not  sure  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  seen  him  since  our  wedding  day  !  " 

Denis  was  dumfoundered,  but  enlightened. 

"  So  you  found  out  just  too  late,"  he  groaned. 

"  Yes ;  and  the  hard  part  was  that  I  might  have 
found  out  in  time,"  she  said  sadly  but  only  sadly, 
as  if  telling  of  some  other  person.  "  There  were 
such  a  lot  of  letters  for  me  that  morning,"  she  went 
on,  "  and  there  was  so  little  time.  I  did  n't  even 
look  at  them;  I  said  I  would  read  them  in  the 
train ;  but  after  all  I  looked  through  the  envelopes 
as  they  were  dressing  me  to  go  away." 

He  heard  her  shuddering,  and  his  lips  moved.  It 
was  black  night  in  the  avenue  now,  and  deepest 
twilight  through  the  trees  on  either  hand.  So  he 
never  knew  how  meekly  she  stood  before  him  in 
this  bitter  hour ;  even  the  striking  humility  of  a 
voice  so  memorable  for  its  spirit  was  lost  upon  a 
mind  too  absorbed  in  the  sense  to  heed  the 
sound. 

"  Your  letter  was  among  them,"  she  went  on. 
"  Which  letter  I  cannot  say ;  it  was  the  first  that 
ever  reached  me,  and  I  was  in  two  minds  whether 
to  read  a  line  of  it  or  to  tear  it  up  unopened ; 
but  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  do  that,  nor  yet 
resist  just  looking  to  see  what  you  said.  And  there 


THE    GREAT    GULF        283 

in  the  first  few  lines  I  saw  it  was  but  one  of  many 
letters  that  had  gone  astray !  It  was  the  letter  in 
which  you  began  by  saying  how  often  you  had 
written  lately,  though  you  had  never  yet  had  a 
single  word  from  me.  But  how  could  I  write  when 
/  never  had  a  line  to  tell  me  where  you  were  ?  " 

"  I  do  n't  blame  you  for  that,"  said  Denis.  "  I 
never  blamed  you  in  my  life  before  to-day ;  when  I 
know  all  I  may  not  blame  you  yet.  I  understand 
nearly  everything  as  it  is."  There  was  a  slight  em- 
phasis on  one  of  the  last  words,  but  it  was  very 
slight :  in  their  common  misery  he  was  now  as  un- 
emphatic  as  she. 

"  It  was  the  letter,"  continued  Nan,  "  in  which 
you  told  me  how  splendidly  you  were  doing,  and 
how  soon  you  hoped  to  sail ;  I  think  it  must  have 
come  in  a  much  quicker  ship  than  yours ;  but  it  was 
a  long  time  before  I  read  that  part.  I  nearly  fainted 
— not  quite — but  they  sent  downstairs  for  our  doctor. 
It  was  a  very  small  party — everything  was  hurried 
and  quite  private — but  Dr.  Stone  has  known  me 
since  I  was  born,  and  fortunately  he  was  there.  I 
told  him  everything,  and  what  I  suspected  in  a 
moment.  He  tried  to  talk  me  over,  but  I  refused 
even  to  see  my  husband  until  my  suspicions  were 
set  at  rest,  and  appealed  to  him  to  stop  a  scandal. 
He  did  so — there  is  no  public  scandal  to  this  day. 
He  went  downstairs  and  declared  that  the  hurry 
and  excitement  had  proved  too  much  for  me ;  that 
it  was  nothing  serious,  but  I  could  not  possibly  go 


284  DENIS    DENT 

away  that  day.  That  emptied  the  house,  and 
gave  me  time  to  think.  But  they  all  pressed  me 
to  see  Captain  Devenish,  so  at  last  I  did  see  him. 
And  in  my  misery  I  came  down  to  his  level,  and 
pretended  not  to  care  if  he  would  only  tell  the 
truth." 

"  And  did  he  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  tell  ?  He  told  me  a  tale,  and  he 
brazened  it  out.  I  believe  it  was  the  truth.  The 
fraud  was  not  begun  by  him,  but  first  he  counte- 
nanced it  and  then  he  had  to  carry  it  on.  He  had 
taken  your  letters  systematically  for  weeks  ;  when- 
ever a  mail  came  in,  here  he  was,  on  the  spot,  and 
ready  for  the  worst.  He  boasted  of  it,  gloried  in  it, 
said  he  would  play  the  same  game  again  for  the 
same  stake !  That  was  the  end.  I  never  looked  at 
him  again,  though  he  stayed  in  the  house  a  week  to 
save  the  appearances  that  were  so  dear  to  him  and 
to  my  father ;  but  it  was  I  who  saved  them,  little  as 
I  cared.  Next  day  I  was  really  ill,  and  before  I 
came  down  again  he  was  gone." 

"  Gone  where  ?  " 

"  To  the  Black  Sea.  You  see,  he  had  to  go  in  a 
week,  in  any  case." 

"  I  do  n't  understand." 

"  To  the  war — with  a  draft  of  the  Grenadiers." 

The  war !  Denis  had  never  heard  of  it  until  the 
night  before,  when  the  pilot  came  aboard  his  ship, 
and  since  landing  his  own  affairs  and  his  own  anx- 
ieties had  filled  his  mind  down  to  this  cruel  culmina- 


THE    GREAT    GULF         285 

tion.  So  Ralph  Devenish,  traitor  and  thief,  had  fled 
to  fight  his  country's  battles  because  he  had  not  the 
pluck  to  stand  and  fight  his  own  !  Denis  could  not 
be  fair  for  a  moment  to  such  an  officer  and  such  a 
gentleman ;  it  was  not  in  his  allowance  of  very  hu- 
man nature. 

"  Now  you  have  told  me  everything,"  he  cried, 
"  I  can  understand  all  but  one  thing.  I  can  under- 
stand your  disbelieving  in  me,  your  resentment  of 
my  silence,  your  failure  to  see  that  what  you  re- 
ceived without  a  line  of  explanation  could  never 
have  been  sent  by  me.  It  was  your  idea  that  I 
should  send  you  back  your  ring  if  I  changed — if  / 
changed !  You  thought  I  would  take  you  at  your 
word  without  a  word  of  my  own  to  ask  so  much  as 
your  forgiveness.  Well,  you  were  at  liberty  to 
think  what  you  liked  of  me ;  you  little  knew  me, 
and  it  was  a  poor  compliment  to  what  you  did 
know ;  but  all  that  I  can  understand.  What  I  can- 
not and  never  will  understand  is  how  you  flew  round 
the  compass  and  married  that  fellow  within  two 
months ! " 

What  had  Nan  to  say  ?  She  had  long  been  ut- 
terly unable  to  understand  it  herself.  Ralph  had 
never  seemed  so  nice ;  she  herself  had  been  wretched, 
reckless,  wounded,  numbed ;  nothing  had  seemed  to 
matter  any  more,  except  to  show  that  she  did  not 
care ;  and  that  was  her  wicked  way  of  showing  it. 
Oh !  she  had  been  wicked,  wicked ;  but  see  her 
punishment !  See  the  shipwreck  of  her  whole  life ! 


286  DENIS    DENT 

He  who  understood  so  much — Denis — dear  Denis 
— could  he  not  forgive  the  mad  sequel  ? 

"  Forgive ! "  He  laughed  out  harshly.  "  Oh, 
yes,  I  can  forgive  you ;  but  that 's  the  end.  We 
must  never  see  each  other  again.  This  is  good- 
bye ;  and  the  sooner  it 's  said  the  better  for  one  and  all." 

He  was  actually  holding  out  his  hand.  Nan 
caught  it  and  clung  to  it  with  both  of  hers. 

"  Good-bye  ?  "  she  almost  screamed.  "  You  are 
not  going  away  like  this  ?  You  would  n't  leave  me 
more  desolate  and  desperate  than  I  was  before? 
You  '11  stay,  or  at  least  come  back  to  see  my  father 
— to  see  me  ?  " 

Denis  did  not  hesitate  for  a  moment.  "  No,"  said 
he,  firmly ;  "  no,  it 's  not  a  bit  of  use  my  staying  to 
see  anybody  or  any  more  of  you ;  and  the  sooner 
you  let  me  go  the  better  and  easier  for  us  both." 

"  But  where  will  you  go  ?  "  she  asked,  partly  to 
gain  time ;  yet  the  desire  to  detain  him  was  not 
greater  than  the  dread  of  sending  him  she  knew  not 
whither. 

"  God  knows !  "  he  answered.  "  Not  to  my  death, 
if  I  can  help  it,  and  if  that 's  what  you  mean,  but 
very  likely  back  to  Ballarat.  I  was  making  a  small 
fortune  there.  I  might  go  back  and  double  it,  or 
lose  it  all.  What  does  it  matter  now?  " 

Even  while  he  spoke,  the  vision  of  his  mates  on 
the  claim  in  Rotten  Gully  rose  warmly  to  his  mind ; 
and  yet,  even  before  he  ceased  speaking,  he  knew 
that  he  could  never  go  back  to  them  now. 


THE    GREAT    GULF        287 

"  Do  n't  go !  "  she  urged  piteously.  "  Denis, 
Denis,  do  n't  leave  me  so  soon.  You  are  always  so 
ready  to  leave  me,  and  see  what  came  of  it  before ! 
I  never  could  forget  it — I  never  could — it  made 
all  the  difference  in  the  end.  But  now  you  are 
the  only  one  I  have  to  look  up  to  in  the  world ; 
stay  and  help  me ;  be  my  friend.  Oh,  Denis,  you 
once  saved  me  from  the  sea.  Stay — do  stay,  for 
God's  sake,  Denis — and  save  me  from  myself!" 

It  needed  heart  of  flint  and  will  of  adamant  to  re- 
sist so  wild  and  touching  an  appeal ;  but  Denis  had 
soon  formed  his  own  conception  of  his  duty,  and 
every  moment  since  he  had  been  subconsciously 
hardening  himself  to  its  performance.  All  his  char- 
acter came  into  his  resolve :  strength,  promptitude, 
unflinching  courage,  undeniable  obstinacy,  and 
withal  a  certain  narrowness,  a  matter  of  upbringing 
and  of  inexperience,  in  questions  of  right  and 
wrong.  She  had  married  another  man ;  there  was 
an  end  of  it,  and  let  the  end  come  quickly.  It 
would  be  wrong  to  see  more  of  her,  wrong  even  to 
remain  her  friend.  So  he  had  argued  in  his  heart ; 
so  he  answered  her  now,  kindly,  tenderly,  with  much 
emotion,  but  with  more  fixity  of  purpose  and  finality 
of  decision. 

"  But  it  is  n't  the  end !  "  cried  Nan,  wildly.  "  It 's 
only  the  beginning — because  I  was  cheated  into 
marrying  him,  and  because  .  .  .  /  love  you, 
Denis,  and  only  you  !  " 

It  was  long  before  Denis  remembered  how  he 


288  DENIS    DENT 

broke  away  from  her ;  how  and  where  he  left  her 
came  back  to  him  slowly  after  hours.  It  was  in  the 
house.  He  had  carried  her  there.  She  loved  him. 
He  could  not  leave  her  out  there  to  creep  in  through 
the  dark  alone,  even  if  she  could  have  crept  half  the 
way  unaided.  But  the  struggle  came  before  all 
that.  The  rest  made  no  immediate  impression  on 
his  mind.  He  was  a  mile  on  his  road  before  his 
brain  began  to  clear,  on  the  crest  of  a  hill,  where  a 
sudden  night  wind  searched  his  skull.  Under  his 
eyes,  and  a  rising  moon,  the  road  he  had  to  traverse 
fell  almost  from  his  feet,  to  glimmer  away  into  a  flat 
and  open  country,  and  to  remind  him  of  the  ship's 
wake  on  a  calm  night ;  only  it  was  no  longer  the 
wake ;  it  was  his  course.  On  the  horizon  the  faint 
glow  of  the  metropolis  was  just  discernible,  and  to 
ears  fresh  from  the  incessant  noises  of  the  ocean, 
the  hum  of  the  great  human  hive  seemed  not  ab- 
solutely inaudible  in  the  young  night's  stillness. 
Yet  every  now  and  then  there  was  a  rattle  of 
parched  leaves,  as  if  the  quiet  earth  stirred  in  its 
sleep ;  for  some  minutes  Denis  also  heard  his  own 
heart  beating  from  the  speed  with  which  he  had 
come  so  far ;  and  as  this  abated,  somewhere  in  the 
nether  distance,  on  the  way  to  London,  a  clock 
struck  seven. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
NEWS  OF  BATTLE 

THERE  was  a  fascination  in  returning  stride 
by  stride  to  the  rattle  and  roar  of  the  metal 
tyres  upon  London's  stones.  Denis  felt  it 
through  the  depths  of  his  blank  misery  and  impo- 
tent rage;  he  only  wondered  that  the  noise  had 
never  struck  him  in  the  morning.  Now  he  picked 
it  up  plain  at  Hendon,  and  it  reminded  him  of  its 
miniature — the  first  far  sound  of  Ballarat — as  it 
seemed  to  rise  with  each  ringing  step  he  took.  His 
body  was  bathed  in  perspiration ;  never  had  he 
walked  so  many  miles  at  such  a  rate.  But  a  vague 
object  had  developed  on  the  way.  By  half-past 
nine  he  was  in  London's  throat ;  and  now  he  might 
have  been  walking  on  cotton-wool. 

Never  had  he  heard  such  an  uproar :  it  was  Satur- 
day night.  Edgware  Road  was  a  vast  trench  of  stalls 
and  barrows,  lurid  with  naked  flames,  strident  with 
hoarse  voices,  only  Denis  was  not  Londoner  enough 
to  know  that  it  was  Edgware  Road.  He  had  the 
vaguest  ideas  as  to  where  he  was,  until,  on  asking 
his  way  to  the  London  Tavern,  he  was  invited  to 
take  his  choice  between  the  glaring  illuminations  of 
several  London  taverns  before  his  eyes.  After  that 


290  DENIS    DENT 

he  applied  to  a  constable,  and  next  minute  sat  cool- 
ing in  a  hansom  cab. 

The  hansom  beat  up  into  the  east  in  a  series  of 
short  tacks,  grinding  endless  curbstones  as  she  went 
about,  but  at  last  emerging  into  latitudes  less  un- 
known to  Denis.  There  was  St.  Paul's  Cathedral, 
perhaps  his  westernmost  landmark,  though  he  had 
once  or  twice  threaded  Temple  Bar  :  so  the  London 
Tavern  was  somewhere  in  the  city.  The  sailor  be- 
gan to  feel  at  home.  The  offices  of  Merridew  and 
Devenish  were  in  one  of  these  silent  streets.  How 
silent  and  deserted  they  were!  What  a  change 
from  the  Edgware  Road !  And  this  was  London's 
hub,  that  he  had  imagined  deafening  and  congested 
at  all  hours  of  the  twenty-four :  that  sleeping  palace 
was  the  Royal  Exchange :  this  black  monolith  the 
Bank.  At  the  first  oasis  of  light  and  life  the  cab 
drew  up. 

"  London  Tavern,  sir,"  said  a  voice  overhead. 

Denis  dismissed  the  cab  and  found  himself  con- 
fronted by  an  overpowering  Cerberus,  who  desired 
to  know  what  he  could  do  for  him,  but  Denis 
scarcely  knew  himself.  His  impressions  in  the  cab 
had  been  acute  but  superficial.  The  mind's  core 
was  still  stunned.  He  had  to  think  hard  in  order 
to  recall  the  resolve  which  had  brought  him 
hither ;  a  burst  of  applause  through  the  tall  lighted 
windows  came  to  his  aid  in  the  nick  of  time. 

"  I   want  to  see  a  gentleman  who  is  dining  here." 

"  What,  now  ?  "  sniffed  Cerberus. 


NEWS    OF    BATTLE         291 

"  Before  he  leaves." 

"  I  could  take  in  your  card,"  condescended  the 
other,  who  had  probably  heard  the  thanks  which 
Denis  had  earned  from  his  cabman,  "  when  the 
Lord  Mayor's  said  what  he  'as  to  say,  if  it 's  any- 
think  very  important." 

"  To  me  it  is,"  said  Denis,  "  and  I  pray  that  it 
may  prove  equally  so  to  him ;  but  it  will  be  time 
enough  after  the  banquet,  and  I  can  take  care  of 
myself  meanwhile." 

He  crossed  the  street  slowly,  pondering  his  re- 
solve, which  was  simply  to  impress  his  daughter's 
despair  upon  John  Merridew's  mind;  to  implore 
him  not  to  leave  her  too  much  alone,  but  to  find 
her  some  bright  companion  without  a  day's  delay, 
to  keep  watch  and  ward  over  her  from  that  day 
forth. 

That  was  the  motive  of  which  Denis  found  him- 
self aware ;  if  in  the  bottom  of  his  heart  he  yearned 
for  a  word  of  unforeseen  sympathy,  of  inconceivable 
comfort,  of  wildest  hope,  the  thought  never  rose  to 
the  surface  of  his  mind. 

But  he  was  distracted  from  all  his  thoughts  by 
cheer  upon  frantic  cheer  from  the  great  hall  across 
the  road.  This  was  no  ordinary  after-dinner 
enthusiasm.  The  lighted  windows  rattled  in  their 
leads.  A  crowd  was  forming  in  the  street.  A 
whisper  was  running  through  the  crowd. 

"  The  Lord  Mayor 's  there,"  said  a  voice  near 
Denis.  "  He  came  on  foot  not  five  minutes  ago. 


292  DENIS    DENT 

It's  something  worth  hearing,  you  mark  my 
words ! " 

Denis  marked  them  with  the  listless  interest  of 
one  who  had  realized  neither  his  country's  peril  nor 
his  countrymen's  excitement.  It  was  impossible 
that  he  should.  He  had  forgotten  that  England 
was  at  war. 

"  Here  he  comes  back  again ! "  exclaimed  the 
same  excited  voice.  "  That 's  his  lordship,  him  in 
the  gold  chain.  See  the  papers  in  his  hand;  see 
the  face  on  him !  It 's  a  victory,  boys,  and  he 's 
going  to  give  us  the  news  !  " 

The  Lord  Mayor  wore  a  frilled  shirt-front  behind 
the  massive  chain  of  office,  and  between  its  tufts  of 
whisker  his  well-favoured  face  shone  like  the  sun. 
But  he  did  not  deliver  his  message  from  the  steps 
of  the  London  Tavern ;  attended  by  one  or  two 
members  of  his  household,  he  led  the  way  on  foot 
toward  the  Royal  Exchange.  A  handful  of  diners 
were  at  his  heels,  and  the  gathering  street-crowd  at 
theirs ;  but  Denis  did  not  think  of  joining  them  un- 
til among  the  former  he  recognized  John  Merridew, 
himself  brandishing  some  missive  and  gesticulating 
to  his  friends. 

It  was  Merridew  alone  whom  Denis  wished  to 
keep  in  view,  yet  as  he  slowly  followed  in  the  civic 
train  he  experienced  a  reawakening  of  that  imper- 
sonal curiosity  which  had  possessed  him  in  the  cab. 
What  had  happened  ?  What  was  going  to  happen 
now  ?  The  answer  came  in  the  blare  of  a  bugle, 


NEWS    OF    BATTLE         293 

even  as  Denis  reached  the  steps  of  the  Royal  Ex- 
change. 

The  bugle  sounded  again  and  again,  waking  the 
echoes  of  the  silent  streets,  filling  them  with  an- 
swering cries  and  the  shuffle  of  hastening  feet. 
Meanwhile  the  Lord  Mayor  had  climbed  the  few 
steps,  and  taken  his  stand  under  the  grimy  portico, 
behind  the  footlights  improvised  by  half-a-dozen 
policemen  with  their  bull's-eyes. 

"  Fellow-citizens  and  gentlemen,"  he  cried,  "  I 
have  to  announce  to  you  the  intelligence  of  a 
splendid  victory  obtained  by  the  Allied  forces  over 
the  Russians  in  the  Crimea  !  " 

A  wild  roar  rose  into  the  night,  and  the  speaker 
himself  prolonged  it  by  calling  for  cheers  for  the 
Queen  before  going  any  further.  Heads  were  un- 
covered and  hats  waved  madly.  Cheer  after  cheer 
rang  to  its  height  and  dropped  like  musketry  in 
single  shouts.  The  converging  streets  were  alive 
with  running  men.  The  blood  was  draining  back 
into  the  City's  heart. 

Denis  wondered  to  find  a  moisture  in  his  eyes ;  it 
brought  back  the  heart-break  which  had  occasioned 
him  less  outward  emotion,  and  he  was  carried  away 
no  more.  The  Lord  Mayor,  indeed,  was  departing 
from  the  point ;  he  had  paused  to  enlarge  upon  the 
delightful  character  of  his  duty  before  completing 
its  performance.  Some  few  months  since  it  had 
fallen  to  his  lot  to  announce  that  war  had  been  pro- 
claimed between  that  country  and  Russia ;  he  had 


294  DENIS    DENT 

now  the  great  satisfaction  of  making  known  to  them 
that  the  Allied  forces  had  taken  the  first  step  to- 
ward reducing  to  reasonable  limits  the  barbaric 
Power  against  which  they  were  engaged.  He  could 
not  help  adding  that  he  considered  the  interests  of 
humanity,  and  the  happiness  of  the  whole  human 
race,  were  all  deeply  concerned  in  the  victory. 

Denis  did  not  join  in  the  renewed  cheering.  His 
brow  was  contracted,  but  not  from  want  of  sympathy 
with  the  excellent  sentiments  expressed.  He  was 
himself  engaged  against  the  sudden  onslaught  of  an 
impossible  thought. 

"  I  will  now  read  to  you,"  continued  the  Lord 
Mayor, "  the  letter  with  which  I  have  been  honoured 
by  the  Duke  of  Newcastle.  '  My  Lord,'  he  writes, 
'  I  have  the  honour  and  high  gratification  of  send- 
ing your  lordship  a  proof  copy  of  an  extraordinary 
Gazette  containing  a  telegraphic  message  from 
her  Majesty's  Ambassador  at  Constantinople,  by 
which  the  glorious  intelligence  of  the  success  of  the 
Allied  arms  in  a  great  battle  in  the  Crimea  has  been 
received  this  morning. — I  am,  my  lord,  your  lord- 
ship's obedient  humble  servant,  Newcastle.'  And 
this,  fellow  citizens,"  the  Lord  Mayor  proceeded  in 
higher  key,  "  and  this  is  the  text  of  that  message  : 
'  The  intrenched  camp  of  the  Russians,  containing 
50,000  men,  with  a  numerous  artillery  and  cavalry, 
on  the  heights  of  the  Alma,  was  attacked  on  the 
2Oth  inst.,  at  I  p.  M.,  by  the  Allied  troops,  and 
carried  by  the  bayonet  at  half-past  three,  with  the 


NEWS    OF    BATTLE         295 

loss  on  our  side  of  about  1 ,400  killed  and  wounded, 
and  an  equal  loss  on  the  side  of  the  French.  The 
Russian  army  was  forced  to  put  itself  in  full  re- 
treat.' " 

There  was  perhaps  one  second  of  profound 
silence. 

"  Fourteen  hundred  !  "  said  an  awed  voice. 

And  then  arose  such  a  storm  of  shouting  and  of 
cheering  as  Denis  had  never  heard  in  all  his  life ; 
and  he  was  roaring  with  the  lustiest,  roaring  as  if  to 
expel  his  thoughts  in  sound.  But  in  the  first  pause 
another  voice  said,  "  Fourteen  hundred  !  "  and  the 
figure  passed  below  the  breath  from  lip  to  lip  till 
one  exclaimed,  "  The  poor  Guards ! "  Thereat 
the  creases  cut  deep  across  Denis's  forehead — so 
deep  you  might  have  looked  for  them  to  fill  with 
blood — and  he  asked  the  man  next  to  him  if  the 
Guards  were  in  it. 

"  In  it  ?  "  cried  the  man  next  Denis.  "  In  the 
thick  and  the  front  of  it,  you  may  depend  !  " 

The  Lord  Mayor  had  not  finished.  He  was 
thanking  one  and  all  for  their  attendance.  He 
was  expressing  a  pious  belief  that  this  victory  of  the 
Alma  would  promote  the  civilization  and  happiness 
of  the  world  more  than  anything  that  had  happened 
for  the  last  fifty  years.  He  was  bowing  to  the 
cheers  that  echoed  his  remarks.  He  was  proposing 
the  cheers  for  our  soldiers.  He  was  leading  the 
cheers  for  the  French.  He  was  descending  with 
dignity  from  the  portico,  with  the  policemen's  Ian- 


296  DENIS    DENT 

terns  still  playing  upon  his  great  gold  chain  and 
rubicund  face,  a  hearty  figure  in  spirited  contrast  to 
the  dark  colonnade  at  his  back. 

But  Denis  bent  glowering  at  the  flag  on  which  he 
stood.  His  neighbour's  answer  to  his  query  about 
the  Guards  was  still  rattling  in  his  head ;  he  had 
heard  nothing  since  with  that  part  of  the  ear  which 
communicates  with  the  brain. 

The  group  of  gentlemen  from  the  London  Tavern 
followed  the  Lord  Mayor  down  the  steps ;  one  of 
them  passed  close  to  Denis,  waving  a  telegram  as 
if  it  were  a  flag. 

"  He  must  have  got  it  off  with  the  dispatches," 
said  he.  "  It  has  been  delivered  at  my  office  this 
evening,  but  fortunately  the  housekeeper  knew 
where  I  was." 

"  And  your  son-in-law  has  come  through  safe  and 
sound  ?  " 

"  Safe  and  sound,  thank  God  ! " 

It  was  Mr.  Merridew,  still  flushed  and  flustered 
with  sentiment  and  satisfaction  ;  as  he  passed,  Denis 
scanned  the  smug,  well-meaning  face ;  but  he  had 
withdrawn  deliberately  from  the  path  of  the  man 
whom  he  had  driven  across  London  to  see.  Talk 
to  him  about  Nan  ! 

"  Now,  sir,  move  on,  please !  " 

The  swollen  crowd  was  streaming  down  Cheap- 
side,  shouting,  cheering,  and  singing  "  Partant  pour 
la  Syrie,"  as  it  bore  the  great  news  westward. 
Already  the  sounds  came  faintly  to  the  steps  of  the 


NEWS    OF    BATTLE         297 

Royal  Exchange,  where  Denis  was  the  last  man  left 
to  blink  in  the  rays  of  the  last  policeman's  lantern. 

"  All  right,  constable ;  but  I  only  landed  from 
Australia  this  morning,  and  I  wish  you  'd  tell  me  a 
thing  or  two  first." 

"  Indeed,  sir  ?  "  said  the  policeman.  Denis  felt 
in  the  pocket  that  was  full  of  notes  and  gold. 

"  About  this  war,"  he  pursued  :  "  you  see  I  never 
heard  of  it  before  to-day.  Can  you  tell  me  which 
of  the  Guards  have  gone  ?  " 

"  Coldstream  and  Grenadiers,  sir." 

"  But  not  all  of  them  ?  " 

"  The  first  battalion  of  the  Coldstream  and  the 
third  of  the  Grenadiers." 

The  man's  prompt  answer  drew  Denis's  attention 
to  the  man  himself.  He  was  over  six  feet  in  height, 
and  not  an  inch  of  it  thrown  away.  But  still  more 
noticeable  was  a  peculiar  pride  of  countenance — 
some  secret  enthusiasm  which  added  a  freshness  to 
the  patriotic  emotion  to  be  found  in  any  other  face. 

"  An  old  Guardsman  ?  "  inquired  Denis. 

"  An  old  Grenadier,  sir ! "  cried  the  policeman. 
"  And  I  would  give  ten  years  of  my  life  to  be  with 
them  now ! " 

"  Do  you  suppose  they  have  lost  very  heavily  ?  " 
Denis  was  searching  the  old  soldier's  face. 

"  If  the  losses  altogether  are  fourteen  hundred  I  '11 
back  ours  to  run  well  into  three  figures ! " 

"  But  they  '11  keep  the  regiment  up  to  strength,  I 
take  it  ?  " 


298  DENIS    DENT 

"  No  doubt  they  '11  send  out  a  draft  as  soon  as 
possible." 

"  Of  course  there  'd  be  no  chance  for  a  recruit  in 
such  a  draft  ?  " 

Denis  had  hesitated,  and  then  forced  a  grin. 
The  old  Grenadier  shook  his  head. 

"  I  doubt  it,  sir  ;  but  a  very  good  man,  who  knew 
his  drill,  they  might  take  him  over  the  heads  of 
others.  They  want  all  the  good  men  they  can  get 
in  time  of  war.  Why,  sir,  that 's  a  sovereign !  " 

"  It  was  meant  to  be ;  it 's  not  a  night  for  less. 
And  now  can  you  tell  me  where  the  rest  of  the 
Grenadiers  are  ?  " 

"  Wellington  Barracks,  sir." 

Denis  fell  into  his  natural  smile. 

"  I  do  n't  know  London  very  well.  Will  you  do 
one  more  thing  for  me  before  I  move  on  ?  " 

"  That  I  will,  sir." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  how  to  find  my  way  to  Well- 
ington Barracks  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XXIX 
GUY  FAWKES  DAY 

A  COMPANY  officer  was  making  his  round 
of  an  outlying  picket  of  Grenadiers  ;  the 
black  hour  before  a  drizzling  dawn  effect- 
ually shrouded  moist  features  and  sodden  whiskers, 
as  bearskin  and  greatcoat  served  to  modify  an 
erect  yet  incorrigibly  casual  carriage.  It  was  Ralph 
Devenish,  however,  and  he  was  performing  his 
duties  with  some  punctilio.  The  sentries  stood 
their  twenty  paces  apart,  all  but  invisible  to  each 
other,  sundered  links  waiting  for  the  dawn  to  com- 
plete the  chain.  And  at  each  link  the  officer  halted 
and  beat  his  foot. 

"All's  well." 

"  Except  your  rifle,  eh  ?  "  muttered  Devenish  to 
one  or  two ;  from  a  third  he  took  the  man's  drip- 
ping piece,  and  from  the  nipple  poured  a  tiny  jet 
of  water  into  the  palm  of  his  left  hand.  "  Keep  it 
covered  if  you  can,  or  it  will  never  go  off,"  was  his 
audible  injunction  to  that  sentry  and  the  next.  One 
who  knew  him  would  have  marveled  at  such  zeal 
and  such  initiative  in  Ralph  Devenish. 

One  who  knew  him  did. 

"  All 's  well." 


300  DENIS    DENT 

"  Except  your  musket,  I  expect.  Let 's  see  it. 
You  know  my  voice  ?  "  It  had  dropped  with  the 
question. 

"  I  do." 

"  I  suppose  you  thought  I  did  n't  recognize 
you  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't  know." 

"  Well,  I  did,  and  had  you  put  on  this  picket  on 
purpose  to  get  a  word  with  you ;  but  do  n't  you 
raise  your  voice  any  more  than  I  'm  raising  mine," 
whispered  Devenish  in  one  breath,  with  a  louder 
comment  on  the  condition  of  the  rifle  in  his  next. 
"  What  are  you  doing  here  ? "  he  added  in  his 
strenuous  undertone.  "  When  did  you  land  in 
England  ?  " 

"  The  last  morning  of  September." 

"  So  it  made  you  enlist." 

"  The  same  night." 

"  Yet  you  got  out  in  the  draft." 

"  I  knew  my  drill.     It 's  a  long  story." 

"  It  must  be !  You  Ve  been  bribing  the  ser- 
geants, or  somebody ;  but  I  do  n't  blame  you  for 
that.  Try  to  keep  the  nipple  covered,"  said  the 
zealous  officer,  returning  the  piece.  "  Why  the 
devil  did  you  choose  my  regiment?"  whispered 
Ralph. 

"  It  was  the  night  the  news  came  of  the  Alma — 
and — I  hoped  you  were  killed  !  " 

"  No  wonder."     Ralph  chuckled  harshly. 

"  It  was  one  to  me ;  but  I  could  n't  help  it,  and  I 


GUY    FAWKES    DAY       301 

felt  in  every  other  battle  it  would  be  the  same.  So 
I  enlisted  that  night." 

"  To  make  sure,  eh  ?  "  sneered  Ralph. 

"  To  run  your  risks ! "  said  Denis  through  his 
teeth.  "  The  chances  are  that  one  of  us  will  go 
back.  The  chances  are  less  that  we  both  will !  " 

The  rain  took  up  the  whispering  for  the  next  few 
seconds. 

"  I  see ! "  said  Ralph  at  length.  "  The  latest  thing 
in  duels  !  Well,  my  congratulations  must  keep  till 
next  round."  And  he  marched  on  nonchalantly 
enough,  with  a  final  chuckle  for  Denis's  salute  ;  but 
the  note  was  neither  so  harsh  nor  so  spontaneous  as 
before;  and  Denis  was  left  to  glory  in  his  last 
words,  to  regret  them,  and  yet  to  glory  in  them  again. 

The  rain  sank  into  his  bearskin,  pattered  on  his 
shoulders,  and  made  quite  a  report  when  it  beat 
upon  a  boot ;  the  next  sentry  was  to  be  heard  an- 
swering questions  about  his  rifle,  and  Denis  won- 
dered if  he  himself  could  be  the  sole  cause  of  the 
unusual  inquisition.  The  officer  passed  on  out  of 
earshot ;  other  noises  of  the  waning  night  returned 
to  recapture  the  attention.  The  dismal  watches 
had  long  been  redeemed  by  a  series  of  exciting 
sounds  from  within  the  enemy's  lines.  The  belfries 
of  Sebastopol  had  first  united  in  discordant  peals ; 
and  from  that  hour  the  outposts  had  heard  low  rumb- 
lings, distant,  intermittent,  but  now  more  distinct  than 
ever,  and  something  nearer  to  the  ear.  A  dull  gray 
light  was  beginning  to  weld  the  links  in  the  chain 


302  DENIS    DENT 

of  bearskins  and  greatcoats  that  stretched  across  the 
soaking  upland.  And  by  degrees  the  dark  night 
lifted  on  a  raw  and  dripping  fog,  almost  as  impene- 
trable as  itself. 

A  patter  of  invisible  musketry  sounded  in  the  di- 
rection of  Inkerman  heights,  increased  to  a  fusillade, 
but  came  no  nearer ;  the  Grenadier  outposts  were 
withdrawn,  and  in  the  misty  dawn  the  company  fell 
in  with  other  two  of  the  Guards  Brigade.  As  they 
did  so  a  level  rainbow  curved  through  the  fog,  and 
some  one  shouted  "  Shell ! "  Every  man  stood  his 
ground  upright,  but  as  the  shell  skimmed  over  their 
heads,  and  sank  spinning  into  the  soft  ground  be- 
yond, a  number  flung  themselves  upon  their  faces, 
and  lay  like  ninepins  until  it  burst  without  hitting 
one. 

"  Stand  up,  stand  up ! "  cried  a  sergeant  with 
a  cheese-cutter  on  the  back  of  his  red  head. 
"  You  're  not  in  the  trenches  now,  and  that 's  sugar- 
plums to  what  you  're  goin'  to  get.  Look  over 
there !  " 

On  the  plain  beneath  the  high  plateau  occupied 
by  the  three  companies,  the  Russian  cavalry  could 
be  seen  below  the  rising  fog,  advancing  obliquely 
on  the  northern  heights,  preceded  by  a  cloud  of 
skirmishers.  Nothing  threatened  the  outpost  of 
Guards ;  no  more  shot  or  shell  fell  among  them ; 
and  word  came  for  them  to  march  back  to  camp  in 
order  to  draw  cartridges  and  exchange  their  drip- 
ping muskets  for  dry. 


GUY    FAWKES    DAY       303 

It  was  no  welcome  order  to  the  picket,  already 
further  from  the  action  than  their  gallantry  could 
bear.  Heavy  firing  on  the  northern  heights  con- 
vinced them  that  the  bulk  of  the  Brigade  were  al- 
ready hotly  engaged.  Yet  a  whole  company  of 
Grenadiers  and  two  of  the  Coldstream  had  to  start 
the  day  by  turning  their  backs  upon  friend  and  foe 
and  din  of  battle. 

"  Never  mind,  boys,"  cried  the  sergeant  in  the 
cheese-cutter.  "  It  '11  be  your  turn  directly,  and 
meanwhile  you  can  say  your  prayers,  for  you  '11  be 
smelling  hell  before  you  're  an  hour  older !  "  . 

Denis,  for  one,  would  have  given  a  good  deal  to 
have  been  spared  this  delay  before  battle  of  which 
he  had  heard  so  much.  He  found  it  as  trying  as 
report  maintained.  He  could  not  but  think  of 
his  last  words  to  Ralph  Devenish,  and  as  Ralph 
marched  aloof  he  looked  as  though  he  might  be 
thinking  of  them  too.  Denis  began  to  suffer  from 
a  sort  of  superstitious  shame :  he  deserved  to  be 
the  one  to  remain  upon  the  field.  He  was  grateful  to 
his  rear-rank  man,  a  Cockney,  and  a  consistent 
grumbler,  for  a  running  commentary  of  frivolous 
complaint. 

"  I  'ope  they  '11  give  us  time  for  a  cup  o'  cawfee 
— if  yer  call  it  cawfee,"  said  he.  "  Green  cawfee- 
beans  ground  between  stones — I  call  it  muck. 
But  'ot  muck  's  better  'n  nothink  w'en  you  Ve  'ad 
no  warm  grub  in  yer  innards  for  twenty-four  hours. 
But  wot  do  you  'ave  in  this  God-forsaken  'ole? 


304  DENIS    DENT 

Not  a  wash,  not  a  shave,  no  pipe-clayin',  no  but- 
ton-cleanin',  no  takin'  belts  or  boots  off  by  the 
day  an'  night  together  !  " 

The  deserted  encampment  was  far  from  an  in- 
spiriting spectacle.  Denis  kept  outside  his  tent; 
the  idea  of  a  farewell  visit  was  not  to  be  resisted ; 
but  a  tough  biscuit  munched  in  the  open  air,  and  a 
dry  rifle  handled  as  the  rain  ceased  falling,  were 
solid  comforters.  At  last  the  companies  fell  in, 
and  swung  out  of  camp  with  a  cheer,  greatcoats 
and  bearskins,  red  plumes  and  white,  as  briskly  and 
symmetrically  as  through  the  streets  of  Lon- 
don. 

" '  Remember,  remember,  the  fifth  o'  November ! ' " 
said  the  red-haired  sergeant.  "  So  you  never  knew 
Guy  Fawkes  was  a  Rooshian  ?  You  hark  at  'em 
keepin'  the  day  ! " 

Indeed,  the  firing  was  growing  louder  every 
minute.  It  was  still  nearly  all  in  one  direction, 
on  the  heights  where  the  fog  clung  thickest,  and 
whither  the  three  companies  were  now  tramping 
through  the  fog. 

"  I  wish  they  'd  remember  the  seventh  day,  an' 
keep  it  'oly,"  grumbled  Denis's  rear-rank  man.  "  I 
s'pose  you  godless  chaps  've  forgot  it 's  yer  Sunday 
out?  I  don't  forget  it's  mine,  darn  their  dirty 
skins  ! " 

A  horse's  hoofs  came  thudding  through  the  fog, 
a  scarlet  coat  burst  through  it  like  the  sun. 

"  The  Duke  says  you  're  to  join  your  battalion," 


GUY    FAWKES    DAY       305 

cried  the  staff-officer  to  Devenish.  "  They  're  hard 
pressed  at  the  two-gun  battery  up  above." 

Devenish  wheeled  round,  and  his  handsome  face 
was  transfigured  as  he  waved  his  sword. 

"  They  want  us  with  the  colours  !  "  he  shouted. 
"  They  can't  do  without  us  after  all ! " 

And  with  a  laugh  and  a  yell  the  men  sprang  for- 
ward, the  sergeant's  face  as  red  as  his  hair,  even  the 
grumbler  pressing  on  Denis's  heels,  and  perhaps 
only  Denis  himself  with  a  single  thought  beyond 
coming  at  once  to  the  rescue  of  the  regiment  and 
to  grips  with  the  shrouded  foe.  But  Denis  had 
been  near  Ralph  when  he  turned,  near  enough  to 
note  the  radiant  look,  to  catch  the  smiling  eye,  and 
his  country's  enemy  was  blotted  out  of  mind  by  his 
own.  Had  he  done  Devenish  justice  after  all  ? 
Was  his  behaviour  as  base  as  it  had  seemed? 
Was  that  shining  and  fearless  face  the  face  of  a  bad 
man  and  a  coward  ?  Handsome,  joyous,  and  brave, 
as  strangely  ennobled  as  some  faces  after  death,  could 
any  woman  have  seen  this  one  now,  she  might  rather 
have  forgiven  it  any  crime  ! 

So  thought  Denis  to  himself  as  he  marched  in 
chill  silence  among  his  yelling  comrades.  He  had 
not  been  with  them  at  the  Alma.  It  was  his  first 
battle,  and  as  yet  it  had  only  begun  to  the  ear ;  not 
a  man  had  been  hit  before  his  eyes,  not  a  flash  had 
penetrated  the  pale  mist  ahead  upon  the  heights. 
Yet  the  mist  was  paler  than  it  had  ever  been  ;  and 
to  the  right,  over  the  green  valley  of  the  Tchernaya, 


306  DENIS    DENT 

whence  it  had  risen  in  patches,  there  was  a  faint 
round  radiance  in  the  pall.  None  noticed  it ;  all 
eyes  were  straining  through  the  haze  in  front  of 
them ;  but  of  a  sudden,  as  the  bearskins  breasted  a 
ridge,  the  sun  broke  forth  upon  an  astounding 
tableau. 

Under  a  canopy  of  mist  and  smoke,  belt-deep  in 
sparkling  bushes  raked  by  the  risen  sun,  a  thin  line 
of  Guardsmen  were  holding  their  own  against  dense 
masses  of  the  enemy.  Between  the  Russians  and 
the  lip  of  the  plateau  in  their  rear,  over  which  they 
were  still  swarming  by  the  battalion,  rose  the  dis- 
mantled redoubt  whose  empty  embrasures  were 
open  doors  to  the  attacking  horde.  Weight  of 
numbers  had  wrested  the  work  from  the  British — 
but  that  was  all.  Instead  of  pressing  this  advan- 
tage, the  enemy  had  set  his  back  to  the  parapet  of 
sandbags,  overlapping  it  in  dense  wings,  and  so 
standing  at  bay  in  his  thousands  against  a  few  hun- 
dred Grenadiers.  The  lingering  mist  and  the  smoke 
of  battle  were  doubtless  in  favour  of  the  few ;  only 
the  remnant  of  their  own  brigade,  approaching 
obliquely  from  their  rear,  could  see  how  few  they 
were ;  and  for  an  instant  the  sight  appalled  them. 
It  was  a  hedge  of  bearskins  and  cheese-cutters 
against  a  forest  of  muffin-caps  and  cross-belts,  and 
between  them  a  road  narrowing  to  a  few  yards  at 
the  end  nearer  the  relieving  handful.  Rifles  flashed 
and  smoke  floated  along  either  line ;  uncouth  yells 
were  answered  by  hoarse  curses  and  by  savage 


GUY    FAWKES    DAY       307 

cheers ;  and  Guardsmen  who  had  fired  away  their 
sixty  rounds  were  hurling  rocks  and  stones  across  a 
lane  so  narrow  that  there  was  scarcely  a  yard  be- 
tween the  sprawling  dead  of  either  side. 

Such  was  the  grim  gray  scene  upon  which  the 
three  companies  appeared.  The  rank  and  file  were 
in  their  greatcoats  almost  to  a  man ;  but  here  and 
there  were  a  scarlet  tunic  and  a  flashing  sword ;  and 
in  the  centre  of  the  line,  in  the  swirl  of  smoke  and 
mist,  staggered  a  crimson  standard  and  a  Union 
Jack. 

"  Our  colours  ! "  screamed  Devenish,  racing  ahead 
of  his  men.  There  was  no  need  for  him  to  tell 
them.  The  gray  pack  were  yelling  at  his  heels, 
and  Denis  saw  but  dimly  as  he  ran  roaring  with  the 
rest. 

The  thin  line  heard  them ;  a  couple  of  officers 
glanced  over  their  epaulettes,  saw  the  red  plumes  of 
the  Coldstream  outnumbering  the  white  plumes  of 
the  Grenadiers,  and  tossed  their  swords  in  a  sudden 
passion  of  jealousy.  "  Charge  again,  Grenadiers  ! " 
they  roared,  and  leaped  into  the  lane  with  the 
whole  gray  wave  rolling  after  them.  And  with 
bayonets  down  and  wild  hurrahs  the  battalion  drove 
straight  into  the  redoubt,  trampling  the  dead,  and 
driving  the  living  through  the  two  embrasures  as  a 
green  sea  is  emptied  through  lee  scuppers. 

Simultaneously  the  mass  of  Russians  to  the  north 
of  the  battery  were  routed  by  a  charge  of  the  Scots 
Fusiliers  at  the  far  end  of  the  line  of  Guards  ;  and 


3o8  DENIS    DENT 

now  the  Coldstreamers  blooded  themselves  upon 
the  companion  wing  extending  from  the  southern 
shoulder  of  the  redoubt;  but  Devenish  and  his 
Grenadiers  had  followed  their  own  into  the  redoubt 
itself,  and  Denis  was  leaning  with  his  back  against 
the  parapet,  brushing  the  sweat  from  his  forehead 
and  cleaning  his  bayonet  in  the  earth. 

There  was  no  more  moisture  in  his  eyes.  The 
emotional  effect  of  the  spectacle  had  yielded  in  an 
instant  to  the  ferocious  frenzy  of  the  deed.  Yet,  as 
he  leaned  panting  in  the  momentary  pause,  there 
was  enough  still  to  be  seen,  and  more  than  enough 
to  do.  A  quartermaster-sergeant  arrived  with  a 
tray  of  refreshments  on  his  shoulders,  and  a 
Grenadier  in  the  act  of  helping  himself  was  shot 
down  as  though  by  one  of  his  own  comrades.  An 
officer  wheeled  round  and  fired  his  revolver  in  the 
air,  whereupon  a  dead  Russian  came  toppling  from 
the  parapet  with  a  fearful  thud  almost  at  Denis's 
feet.  But  the  fierce  fellows  struggling  for  the  bis- 
cuits took  no  notice  of  either  incident.  Stained 
with  powder,  caked  with  blood,  bearded,  tattered, 
torn,  they  fought  with  their  rough  good-humour, 
for  their  first  food  since  the  night  before,  and  with 
their  mouths  full  rallied  each  other  on  their  appear- 
ance. 

"  You  ain't  fit  for  Birdcage  Walk,"  panted  one. 
"  I  'd  like  to  let  them  nursemaids  see  you  now !  " 

"  It 's  about  time  I  fired  a  round,"  said  another, 
snapping  caps  to  dry  his  nipple.  His  bayonet  was 


GUY    FAWKES    DAY       309 

bloody  to  the  muzzle.  A  third  was  replenishing 
his  pouch  from  that  of  a  dead  comrade,  with  grim 
apologies  to  the  corpse.  There  was  less  levity 
among  the  officers.  It  was  at  this  period  that  Lord 
Henry  Percy  twice  scaled  the  parapet, — a  simple 
slope  to  the  enemy — in  order  to  clear  it  with 
his  sword.  Each  time  a  well-aimed  fragment  of 
rock  threw  him  backward  over;  the  second  mis- 
adventure left  him  senseless  where  he  fell ;  and 
Denis,  who  was  now  reloading,  sprang  with  others 
to  his  assistance. 

"  Get  yourself  something  to  eat,"  said  a  brother 
officer  of  the  fallen  Colonel,  brushing  the  private 
aside. 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  I  had  plenty  in  camp.  I  'm 
waiting  for  the  next  charge ! "  said  Denis,  with  his 
cartridge  between  his  teeth  ;  and  he  bit  off  the  end, 
dropped  the  powder  into  the  muzzle  of  his  piece, 
reversed  and  rammed  home  with  no  other  thought 
in  his  heated  head.  He  had  been  speaking  to  the 
gallant  officer  who  had  led  him  into  his  first  action. 
He  did  not  realize  that  it  was  Ralph  Devenish.  He 
had  forgotten  that  there  was  such  a  being  in  the 
world. 


CHAPTER  XXX 
THE  SANDBAG  BATTERY 

DENIS  had  not  long  to  wait.  There  was  a 
sudden  agitation  at  the  northern  shoulder 
of  the  redoubt.  Shouts  and  shots  rose  in 
an  instant  to  the  continuous  din  of  desperate  com- 
bat, as  the  strokes  on  a  gong  ring  into  one.  A 
sulphurous  cloud  brooded  over  the  struggling 
throng,  worked  its  way  down  the  inner  wall  of  the 
battery,  and  clung  to  the  angle  of  the  first  em- 
brasure ;  inch  by  inch  the  bearskins  were  overborne, 
and  between  them  pressed  the  cross-belts  and  the 
infuriate  sallow  faces  in  the  peaked  caps.  Just  then 
Denis  saw  a  handful  of  his  comrades,  not  actually 
in  the  path  of  the  Russian  avalanche,  forming  for  a 
flank  attack  upon  the  intruders  ;  in  an  instant  he 
was  one  of  them,  and  in  another  they  had  leaped 
upon  the  enemy  with  ball,  butt,  and  bayonet.  The 
Russians  were  pinned  against  the  wall  of  the  work. 
Those  whom  they  had  been  driving  rallied  and 
drove  them.  Murderously  assaulted  in  front  and 
flank,  the  invading  battalion  turned  and  fled  as  they 
had  come,  leaving  the  ground  thick  with  their  dead. 
Again  Denis  stopped  to  breathe.  His  bayonet 
was  bent  nearly  double;  he  put  his  foot  in  the 


THE  SANDBAG  BATTERY  311 

crook,  detached  it  with  a  twist,  and  was  about  to 
replace  it  with  the  bayonet  of  a  ghastly  Grenadier 
when  he  found  the  butt  of  his  own  piece  plastered 
with  blood  and  hair.  So  he  exchanged  muskets 
with  the  dead  man,  but  wiped  his  hand  without  a 
qualm.  He  remembered  whirling  his  Minie  by  the 
barrel  when  the  bayonet  bent ;  he  could  remember 
little  else.  Of  his  life  before  the  fight,  of  his  own 
identity,  he  had  lost  all  sense ;  his  ordinary  being 
was  in  abeyance ;  he  was  a  fearless  and  ruthless  mad- 
man, smothered  in  blood  and  gasping  for  more. 

Comparatively  calm  intervals  he  had  throughout 
the  fight,  intervals  in  which  for  one  reason  or  an- 
other he  was  a  momentary  spectator  of  the  scenes 
in  progress  all  around  him.  It  was  these  scenes 
that  lived  in  his  memory ;  even  at  the  time  they 
moved  him  more  than  those  in  which  he  had  a 
hand.  Once  the  Guards  were  fighting  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Sandbag  Battery,  between  it  and  the 
long  lip  of  the  ravine ;  he  had  to  wait  for  accounts 
of  the  battle  long  afterward  to  learn  how  they  had 
got  there,  or  what  relation  this  phase  of  the  action 
bore  to  the  whole.  At  the  time  he  was  one  of  a 
handful  of  furious  Grenadiers,  fighting  for  their 
lives  in  the  fresh  fog  which  their  powder  had 
brought  down  upon  them,  and  a  moment  came 
which  Denis  felt  must  be  his  last.  He  had  tripped 
headlong  over  a  dead  Russian,  and  a  quick  Russian 
stood  over  him,  aiming  his  bayonet  with  one  hand 
while  the  other  grasped  the  stock  high  above  his 


312  DENIS    DENT 

head.  But  a  British  officer  flung  out  his  revolver 
within  a  few  feet  of  the  deliberate  gray-coat,  and  it 
was  the  sensation  of  being  shot  from  behind  at  such 
a  moment  that  Denis  anticipated  more  poignantly 
than  that  of  being  transfixed  where  he  lay.  The 
man  fell  dead  on  top  of  him.  Anon  he  saw  his 
friend  the  red-headed  sergeant,  being  led  captive 
down  the  hill  by  two  of  the  enemy,  suddenly  wrest 
the  carbine  from  one  of  them,  club  them  both  with 
it,  and  bayonet  one  after  the  other  before  they  could 
rise.  That  also  made  Denis  shudder.  And  yet  he 
was  biting  a  cartridge  at  'i\\c  moment,  having  killed 
with  his  last,  at  arm's  length,  a  splendid  fellow  who 
had  grasped  his  bayonet  while  he  poised  his  own. 

Now  the  Sandbag  Battery  seemed  out  of  sight, 
because  it  was  quite  another  thing  from  this  side, 
and  now  they  were  back  in  it,  sweeping  the 
Russians  out  once  more.  Denis  did  not  know  that 
the  work  had  changed  hands,  half-a-dozen  times 
before  his  company  came  into  action,  but  even  he 
saw  the  uselessness  of  a  redoubt  from  which  our 
soldiers  could  only  see  one  way,  and  that  in  the  di- 
rection of  their  own  lines.  The  dead,  indeed,  now 
lay  piled  to  the  height  of  any  banquette.  No 
wilful  foot  was  set  on  them.  It  was  only  the  living 
for  whom  there  was  neither  shrift  nor  pity  on  that 
bloody  field. 

This  was  the  last  that  Denis  saw  of  the  Sandbag 
Battery ;  he  was  one  of  those  who,  led  by  a  bevy  of 
hot-headed  officers,  incontinently  scaled  it  as  one 


THE  SANDBAG  BATTERY  313 

man,  flung  themselves  upon  the  ousted  enemy,  and 
hunted  him  down-hill  in  crazy  ecstasies.  A  hoarse 
voice  in  high  authority  screamed  command  and  en- 
treaty from  the  crest  where  the  Grenadier  colours 
drooped  in  the  haze,  deserted  by  all  but  a  couple  of 
hundred  bearskins.  It  was  as  though  the  curse 
of  the  Gadarene  swine  had  descended  on  this  herd 
of  inflamed  Guardsmen.  Down  they  went,  if  not  to 
their  own  destruction,  to  the  grave  peril  of  the  rem- 
nant up  above.  An  officer  in  front  of  Denis  was 
the  first  to  recognize  the  error ;  he  checked  both 
himself  and  a  rough  score  of  the  rank  "and  file ;  and 
together  these  few  came  clambering  back  to  the 
colours  on  the  heights. 

Breathless  they  gained  the  edge  of  the  plateau, 
to  swarm  over  as  the  Russians  had  so  often  done 
before  them,  and  to  find  matters  as  grave  as  they 
well  could  be.  The  crimson  standard  and  the 
Union  Jack  swayed  in  the  centre  of  a  mere  knot  of 
Guardsmen,  already  sorely  beset  by  broken  masses 
of  the  enemy.  And  even  now  a  whole  battalion 
was  bearing  down  upon  the  devoted  band,  march- 
ing to  certain  conquest  with  a  resolute  swing  and 
swagger,  and  yet  with  the  deep  strains  of  some 
warlike  hymn  rising  incongruously  from  its  ranks. 
In  a  few  minutes  at  most  the  little  knot  of  Grena- 
diers must  be  overtaken,  overwhelmed,  and  those 
staggering  and  riddled  colours  wrested  from  them 
for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the  regiment. 
But  the  officer  whom  Denis  was  now  following  was 


3H  DENIS    DENT 

one  of  the  bravest  who  ever  wore  white  plume  in 
black  bearskin  ;  and  he  had  the  handling  of  a  team 
of  heroes,  some  of  whom  had  fought  at  his  side 
against  outrageous  odds  at  an  earlier  stage  of  the 
battle. 

"  We  must  have  a  go  at  them,  lads,"  said  he ; 
"  we  can  keep  them  off  the  colours  if  we  can't  do 
more.  Are  you  ready  ?  Now  for  it,  then  !  " 

Denis  had  come  to  himself;  here  at  length  was 
certain  death ;  and  for  the  last  moments  of  conscious 
life  he  had  turned  his  back  upon  the  battle's  smoke 
and  roar,  while  his  eyes  rested  upon  a  clear  and  tran- 
quil patch  in  the  green  valley  of  the  Tchernaya, 
with  tiny  trees  and  a  white  farmhouse  set  out  like 
toys.  His  thoughts  were  not  very  clear,  but  they 
were  flying  overseas,  and  as  they  still  flew  the 
officer's  voice  rang  in  his  ears.  So  this  was  the 
end.  A  few  Russians  in  loose  order  led  the  col- 
umn ;  they  were  soon  swept  aside ;  and  into  the 
real  head  of  the  advancing  multitude  the  twenty 
hurled  themselves  like  men  who  could  not  die. 

Denis  never  knew  what  happened  to  himself. 
He  remembered  his  captain  being  bayoneted 
through  the  folds  of  his  cloak,  and  cutting  down 
two  Russians  at  almost  one  stroke  of  his  sword; 
he  remembered  longing  for  a  sword  of  his  own,  as 
his  piece  was  wrenched  from  his  grasp  by  a  dead 
weight  on  the  bayonet.  Yellow  faces  hemmed 
him  in,  their  little  eyes  dilating  with  rage  and  mal- 
ice ;  he  remembered  striking  one  of  them  with  all  his 


THE  SANDBAG  BATTERY  315 

might,  seeing  the  man  drop,  being  in  the  act  of 
striking  another.  .  .  .  His  fists  were  still  doubled 
when  he  opened  his  eyes  hours  later  on  the  moonlit 
battle-field. 

A  great  weight  lay  across  his  legs,  so  stiffly  that 
Denis  thought  the  dead  man  a  log  until  his  hand 
came  in  contact  with  damp  clothing.  His  own  throat 
and  mouth  were  full  of  something  hard  and  horri- 
ble. His  moustache  and  beard  were  clotted  with 
the  same  substance.  One  side  of  his  face  felt  numb 
and  swollen ;  but  his  sight  was  uninjured,  and  the 
pain  not  worse  than  bad  neuralgia.  He  got 
upon  his  hands  and  knees  and  looked  about  him. 

The  day's  haze  had  vanished  with  the  smoke  of 
battle ;  it  was  a  still  and  clear  night,  brilliantly 
lighted  by  the  moon.  The  Tchernaya  lay  like  a 
tube  of  quicksilver  along  the  peaceful  plain  whereon 
Denis  had  gazed  before  the  end ;  he  could  see  a 
light  in  the  white  farmhouse.  The  heights  of  Ink- 
erman  twinkled  all  over  with  scattered  weapons, 
and  all  over  were  mounds  more  like  graves  than 
bodies  waiting  for  the  grave.  The  Sandbag  Battery 
rose  sharply  against  the  moonlit  sky.  Denis  was 
not  near  enough  to  see  the  fearful  carnage  there, 
but  he  remembered  what  it  had  been  quite  early  in 
the  day,  and  he  had  only  to  listen  to  hear  the 
groaning  of  the  wounded  who  had  yet  to  be  disen- 
tangled from  the  dead  in  the  shadow  of  those  ill- 
starred  parapets.  The  night  was  so  still  that  a 
groan,  nay,  a  dying  gasp,  could  be  heard  even 


316  DENIS    DENT 

further  than  sight  could  penetrate  through  the 
rays  of  that  glorious  moon ;  and  yet  it  was  so  light 
that  the  glimmer  of  lanterns  round  about  the  fatal 
battery  was  not  at  first  apparent  to  the  eye. 

When  Denis  saw  the  lanterns,  he  got  up  and 
tried  to  stagger  toward  them,  but  collapsed  at  once, 
and  had  to  lie  where  he  fell  until  they  came  to  him. 

"  Come  on,  boys,  I  see  a  Rooshian ! "  called 
Linesman,  holding  his  lantern  level  with  his  shako. 

"  Wait  a  bit,  here  's  one  of  our  chaps,"  replied  a 
voice  that  Denis  knew.  "  S'  help  me  if  it  ain't  our 
old  sergeant.  I  'd  know  him  by  his  ginger  nob  a 
mile  off!  And  him  in  such  a  stew  to  get  at  'em 
this  morning !  It 's  more  'n  ever  I  was,  though  I  'd 
as  lief  be  on  that  job  as  this.  .  .  .  ugh  ! " 

Denis  soon  attracted  their  attention,  and  in  a  few 
more  moments  his  original  rear-rank  man  was 
stooping  over  him. 

"  Why,  you  're  stuck  through  the  face ! "  he 
cried,  screwing  up  his  own  behind  the  lantern. 
"  But  the  glue  seems  set,  and  do  n't  you  go  for  to 
move  and  melt  it.  There 's  a  wounded  officer 
wants  to  see  you." 

.  Denis  whispered  something  inarticulate.     It  was 
his  first  attempt  to  speak. 

"  What 's  that  ?  Yes,  it 's  our  captain,"  said  the 
other,  "  and  he 's  waitin'  to  hear  if  you  're  alive. 
If  you  're  sound  below  the  teeth  we  can  give  you  an 
arm  apiece  and  take  you  to  him  in  ten  minutes. 
He  's  on'y  in  one  o'  the  Second  Division  tents." 


THE  SANDBAG  BATTERY  317 

Denis  could  ask  no  questions,  but  he  had  strength 
enough  to  act  upon  this  suggestion,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  he  was  among  the  lighted  tents.  They  put 
him  vividly  in  mind  of  his  first  night  at  Ballarat. 
That  was  the  last  time  he  had  spoken  to  Ralph 
Devenish  until  the  morning  of  this  dreadful  day. 

Now  Ralph  was  lying  in  a  military  tent,  a  candle 
and  a  tumbler  of  champagne  on  the  service  trunk 
at  his  elbow,  and  an  army  surgeon  on  a  camp-stool 
beside  the  bed. 

"  Is  that  the  man  you  want  to  see  ?  "  asked  the 
surgeon,  but  bundled  Denis  from  the  tent  next  in- 
stant, and  made  his  conductors  hold  both  lanterns 
to  his  face.  "  Do  n't  you  try  to  speak  !  "  he  went 
on  to  Denis.  "  Your  wound  has  practically  frozen ; 
and  we  must  keep  it  so  as  long  as  we  can.  Hold 
this  wad  to  it  till  you  come  out.  I  ought  n't  to  let 
you  go  in — but  he 's  worse  than  you." 

The  caution  was  repeated  to  Ralph ;  then  Denis 
took  the  camp-stool,  and  the  two  were  left  alone. 

"  I  am  glad  to  have  seen  you  again,"  murmured 
Ralph  in  hollow  tones.  "  Do  you  know  when  I 
saw  you  last?  I  never  thought  of  it  till  this  mo- 
ment. It  was  on  the  far  side  of  the  battery.  Some 
fellow  was  going  to  bayonet  you  where  you  lay, 
and  I — I  was  just  in  time." 

Denis  was  nodding  violently.  He  also  had  re- 
membered. He  stretched  out  a  trembling  hand. 
But  Ralph  drew  his  beneath  the  blanket. 

"  Wait  a  bit,"  he  whispered.     "  You  see,  I  never 


318  DENIS    DENT 

thought  of  its  being  you  ;  but  I  'm  rather  glad  it 
was.  Badly  hurt,  I  'm  afraid  ?  " 

Denis  shook  his  head. 

"  I  am.  Lungs.  I  'm  afraid  it 's  a  case.  Do  you 
remember  this  early  morning  ?  " 

The  disfigured  face  made  a  ghastly  protest. 
Devenish  only  smiled. 

"  It  was  a  good  sort  of  duel,"  he  whispered. 
"  And  you  see,  you  've  won  !  " 

He  stretched  out  a  deathly  hand  for  the  cham- 
pagne. Denis  reached  it  for  him. 

The  surgeon  stood  in  the  opening  of  the  tent, 
advanced  a  step,  shrugged,  and  retired  unseen. 
Ralph  had  not  hidden  his  hand  again.  Denis  held 
it  in  both  of  his. 

"  Ask  her  to  forgive  me,"  gasped  the  shallow 
whisper.  "  No.  ...  I  can't  ask  you.  .  .  . 
I  do  n't.  But  you  might  tell  her — when  it  came  to 
this  sort  of  thing " 

And  the  deathly  face  lit  up  with  such  a  smile  as  it 
had  worn  that  morning,  when  Ralph  Devenish  waved 
his  sword,  and  led  his  company  to  the  succour  of 
their  comrades  before  the  Sandbag  Battery. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 
TIME'S  WHIRLIGIG 

JOHN  DENT  was  a  Yorkshire  yeoman,  born  in 
the  last  years  of  the  eighteenth  century,  of  that 
hardy  northern  stock  which  is  England's  biceps 
to  this  day.  As  a  very  little  boy  he  was  sent  to 
Richmond  Grammar  School,  and  there  event- 
ually educated  beyond  the  needs  of  his  vocation, 
which  was  to  live  all  his  days  upon  the  land  of  his 
fathers.  John  Dent  was  quite  prepared  to  do  so 
when  he  had  seen  something  of  the  world ;  and  by 
thirty  he  had  not  only  seen  more  of  it  than  was 
usual  in  those  times,  but  had  fallen  in  love  on  his 
travels  with  a  young  Irish  girl  of  a  social  station  in- 
dubitably above  his  own.  What  was  more  impor- 
tant, the  young  Irish  girl  had  fallen  in  love  with 
John  Dent,  who  was  handsome,  huge,  and  gentle, 
with  no  great  sense  of  humour,  but  of  tenderness 
and  strength  compact. 

Being  what  he  was,  John  Dent  came  to  his  point 
with  startling  directness,  was  accepted,  left  the  party 
which  he  proposed  to  deplete,  and  traveled  like  the 
crow  to  Dublin,  where  a  perfect  old  gentleman  sent 
him  about  his  business  in  the  sweetest  imaginable 
brogue.  John  Dent  returne-d  to  Yorkshire  with 
hardly  a  word,  set  his  affairs  in  order,  ascertained 


320  DENIS    DENT 

his  income  to  a  nicety,  chartered  a  little  ship  at 
Whitehaven,  and  landed  in  Dublin  with  his  business 
books  under  his  arm  and  certain  family  documents 
in  his  wallet.  This  time  he  sent  a  note  to  Merrion 
Square,  and  was  content  to  beard  the  perfect  old 
gentleman  in  his  official  quarters.  But  to  no  pur- 
pose ;  he  was  not  even  suffered  to  produce  his  books 
or  his  papers ;  neither  deed,  document,  nor  yet  bank- 
er's reference,  he  was  smilingly  informed,  would 
recommend  the  match  to  which  he  aspired.  John 
Dent  replied  that  he  was  sorry,  as  he  certainly  meant 
to  realize  his  aspiration,  and  since  his  beloved  was  of 
age,  at  the  earliest  possible  moment.  Dogged  as 
could  be  seen,  but  more  enterprising  than  was  sup- 
posed, he  went  straight  aboard  his  vessel,  where 
Nora  Devenish  actually  awaited  him ;  and  in  two 
or  three  days  they  were  leaving  Gretna  Hall  as  man 
and  wife  when  a  Carlisle  coach  rattled  over  the 
bridge  and  up  the  hill  with  the  perfect  old  gentle- 
man screaming  curses  from  the  box. 

Such  was  the  story  of  the  marriage  of  Denis's 
parents  in  the  last  days  of  George  IV.  Right  or 
wrong,  justified  or  unjustifiable,  it  led  neither  to 
long  life  nor  to  prosperity.  Nora  Devenish  had  the 
spirit  to  cut  herself  off  from  her  own  flesh  and  blood, 
but  Nora  Dent  had  neither  the  heart  nor  the  health 
to  bear  a  permanent  severance.  They  never  forgave 
her,  and  it  broke  her  heart.  Meanwhile  the  perpet- 
ual care  of  an  ailing  wife  combined  with  the  new 
Corn  Laws  to  impoverish  John  Dent's  estate.  He 


TIME'S    WHIRLIGIG       321 

did  not  live  to  see  the  repeal  of  the  measures  which 
had  helped  to  ruin  him;  and  he  too  died  unfor- 
given,  not  only  by  his  wife's  family,  but  by  himself 
for  her  early  death.  And  the  last  thing  that  John 
Dent  foresaw  from  his  deathbed  was  the  reunion  of 
his  name  with  that  of  Devenish  in  the  very  next 
generation. 

Nevertheless,  just  as  John  Merridew  had  himself 
foreshadowed  in  a  moment  of  emotion  on  the  Aus- 
tralian coast,  the  place  that  was  made  for  Denis  in 
his  firm  led  almost  at  once  to  a  junior  partnership. 
But  the  new  partner  was  now  enabled  to  bring  in  a 
little  capital,  and  that  at  a  time  when  the  growing 
need  of  steamers  was  involving  every  line  in  large 
expense ;  his  few  thousands,  however,  were  as  noth- 
ing compared  with  his  practical  knowledge  of  the 
sea ;  and  so,  still  in  the  'fifties,  a  Devenish  and  a 
Dent  were  hand-in-glove. 

Denis  and  Nan  were  not  married  until  the  winter 
before  the  Indian  Mutiny,  because  Denis  made  a 
quick  enough  recovery  to  abide  by  an  impulse,  as 
he  had  always  done,  and  to  fight  through  the  rest 
of  the  Crimean  War.  He  was  a  sergeant  of  that 
ragged  remnant  of  the  Guards  Brigade  which 
marched  through  London  on  a  midsummer's  day 
and  which  the  Queen  welcomed  from  the  bal- 
cony of  Buckingham  Palace.  Thereafter  Denis  had 
quickly  and  quietly  bought  himself  out,  and  it  was 
as  a  civilian,  once  more  shorn  of  his  picturesque  tat- 
ters, that  he  drove  down  to  Hertfordshire  for  the 


322  DENIS    DENT 

second  time  in  his  life.  He  looked  several  years 
older.  His  habitual  expression  was  a  little  grim  and 
wary,  the  movement  of  head  and  eyes  something 
staccato.  But  that  wore  off.  And  many  people 
never  noticed  that  the  curve  of  one  nostril  was  much 
deeper  than  the  other,  though  it  was  there  a  Rus- 
sian bayonet  had  been  driven  through  his  face. 

They  lived  in  London,  if  the  part  that  was  still 
Old  Kensington  could  be  so  reckoned  at  that  time. 
But  in  summer  they  took  a  cottage  near  Mr.  Merri- 
dew,  partly  because  it  was  called  The  Fortune,  and 
was  yet  one  of  the  smallest  fortunes  in  the  world, 
and  partly  because  Nan  loved  roses,  which  grew  on 
that  rich  soil  as  on  no  other.  Shortly  after  Mr. 
Merridew's  death  his  house,  being  sold,  was  turned 
into  a  school ;  after  some  years  it  became  a  great 
school ;  and  their  boys,  the  grandsons  of  the  old  red 
place,  went  back  there  on  the  way  to  Harrow. 

Denis  kept  in  touch  with  his  first  partners  on  the 
gold-fields,  though  it  was  some  years  before  he  saw 
either  of  them  again.  Doherty  did  almost  as  well 
as  ever  for  some  time  after  his  departure,  but  the 
life  was  no  longer  what  it  had  been,  and  the  lad 
gave  it  up  on  hearing  from  Denis  that  there  was  no 
chance  of  his  return.  He  went  back  to  the  station 
on  the  craggy  coast  where  the  North  Foreland  had 
met  her  doom.  Denis  next  heard  of  him  as  a  pio- 
neer squatter  in  the  Riverina  country,  and  a  partner 
of  his  former  master,  the  kindly  Kitto ;  and  when 
they  did  meet  in  after  life  the  younger  man  hap- 


TIME'S    WHIRLIGIG       323 

pened  to  be  the  richer  of  the  two.  His  career  was 
checkered  but  honourable,  and  his  memory  is  one 
of  the  few  green  things  in  the  district  of  his  adop- 
tion. Denis  saw  more,  however,  of  a  bland  clergy- 
man who  called  on  him  in  the  City  one  fine  May 
morning :  he  had  come  in  for  a  family  living  in 
East  Anglia,  where  the  Dents  found  Parson  Moseley 
as  great  a  success  with  his  crass  parishioners  as  he 
had  proved  a  failure  among  the  quick  and  energetic 
diggers  of  the  early  days. 

There  was  one  other  figure  of  those  days  whom 
Denis  encountered  twice  in  the  'fifties,  once  for  a 
minute  in  Pall  Mall,  when  an  ill-advised  expression 
of  gratitude  on  the  part  of  Denis  curtailed  an  inter- 
change of  much  interest,  and  a  few  years  later  at  a 
social  function  of  some  magnitude  to  which  Nan 
enticed  her  husband.  She  recognized  the  tall  and 
lazy-looking  gentleman  who  recognized  Denis ;  in 
point  of  fact  he  was  a  public  man,  and  far  less  lazy 
than  he  looked ;  but  as  Nan  did  not  know  him  she 
withdrew  to  the  nearest  ottoman,  where  she  looked 
very  beautiful  under  the  glass  chandelier  of  the 
period  (in  spite  of  its  unregenerate  skirts)  during 
the  little  conversation  which  Denis  was  careful  not 
to  cut  short  again. 

"  I  hope  you  saw  the  news  ?  "  said  the  tall  man, 
as  though  he  and  Denis  had  been  meeting  every  day. 

"  The  news  from  where,  sir  ?  " 

"  Black  Hill  Flat,  if  you  happen  to  recollect 
such  a  place." 


324  DENIS    DENT 

"  I  should  think  I  did  ! "  cried  Denis.  "  But  I 
have  n't  seen  anything  about  it  in  the  paper." 

"  I  knew  you  had  a  good  memory,"  said  the  tall 
man,  smiling  a  little  over  his  beard.  "  I  suppose  it 
does  n't  by  any  chance  hark  back  to  what  I  told 
you  would  some  day  happen  on  Black  Hill  Flat  ?  " 

"  Rather  ! "  cried  Denis  again.  "  You  used  to  say 
that  gold  would  be  found  there  sooner  or  later." 

"  It  was  found  the  other  day,  within  a  few  feet  of 
the  top." 

"  You  said  it  would  be  ! " 

"  On  the  Native  Youth  side,  and  plenty  of  it,  in- 
cluding a  solid  lump  nearly  as  big  as  the  one  you 
got  out  of  my  old  shaft.  They  call  it  the  Nil 
Desperandum  Nugget,  which  amuses  me,  because 
I  never  met  another  man  who  did  n't  despair  of  the 
place.  I  'm  surprised  you  had  n't  heard  of  it,"  said 
the  old  deep-sinker,  and  with  his  old  nod  passed  on. 

Nan  was  immensely  excited  under  the  glass 
chandelier ;  and  excitement  and  bright  lights  still 
became  her ;  but  Denis  had  never  known  his  wife 
so  bad  a  listener. 

"  But  you  know  who  it  is  ?  "  she  asked  him  both 
at  beginning  and  end. 

"  Indeed  I  do  n't." 

"  You  know  that  man  to  speak  to,  and  you  do  n't 
know  him  by  name  ?  " 

"  No  ;  who  is  he  ?  " 

And  she  told  him  with  bated  breath. 

THE    END 


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